


kiss the dust, wanderlust

by xiseoks



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Oh Sehun/Park Chanyeol, Non-Linear Narrative, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 17:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12040545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiseoks/pseuds/xiseoks
Summary: Love is more than a game for the gods to play with.





	kiss the dust, wanderlust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crownjules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownjules/gifts).



> To my recipient: this was a lot of fun to write, and I loved your prompts. I hope with all my heart that you enjoy this. ♡  
> To the readers: each number preceding a chapter symbolizes which lifetime you're reading, I hope things make sense!  
> To my beta: you are truly the best beta ever, thank you so much, you mean the world to me. I love you, my little paradox. ♡

**ix. present**  
  
The streets of Venice are canals, winding in and out of this city-on-water. The streets of Venice are the secret roads untaken, the alleyways and mistaken signs and graffitied walls. The streets of Venice are, as they have been for years, Kyungsoo’s map to a home he’ll always miss, to a memory he’ll shelter deep in his heart for as long as he lives.  
  
_Jongin_.  
  
The streets of Venice are not streets, not exactly. They are paths to liberation, to harmony, to losing a part of yourself only to find another.  
  
That’s what Jongin would say, anyway.  
  
It’s autumn. The leaves are colouring, and the sky seems to be doing the same, telling Kyungsoo he should be heading home soon. And yet, he doesn’t budge from his place on the bench, eyes fixed on the still of water’s surface. The evening chill settles deep into his bones, and he allows it to overtake his being, lets it distract him from the mind-numbing thoughts that scatter around his mind.  
  
He likes it here. He always has. There’s a strange sensation that makes him feel whole, makes him feel content and at peace. He does not attribute that to the flood of memories that come with this place. He can’t, he mustn’t. What’s in the past is in the past.  
  
On the contrary, what makes this place his favourite is the fact that he can forget who he is here.  
  
For a minute, he can forget his name. He can forget the weight on his shoulders, forget the pressing thoughts that wear him down from day to day. Forget that he is human, forget that somewhere out there is the person he can no longer have. Not in this lifetime anyway, and perhaps not in any other anymore. He can forget, just for a moment, who he is. Just like Jongin has.  
  
Or rather, it’s more of the impression that Kyungsoo believes he can forget at all. It’s more about _trying_ to forget.   
  
“Excuse me.”  
  
Kyungsoo blinks his eyes open. He feels sick to his stomach, suddenly. That voice -  soft and curious and a little shy - sounds before him.   
  
There’s a man in front of him. A silhouette of a man, black against the orange sky, the setting sun creating a glow around him. But the voice - that’s all Kyungsoo needs to _know_.  
  
“I’m sorry,” the man continues, “but can you help me? I’m not from here and I - I think I’m lost.”  
  
They say time changes things, makes you less vulnerable, allows you to move on. Kyungsoo had hoped for that; no, he depended on it. And yet, he is continuously chased by his past with time trailing meagrely behind, struggling to keep up.  
  
Kyungsoo smiles anyway. Soft, familiar, reserved. He speaks, something bittersweet fluttering in his gut.  
  
“You’re meant to lose yourself here. That’s what the people say. Welcome to Venice.”

 

  
  
  
**i.**  
  
Jongin huffs, amused by the puff of air that escapes his lips after. Stardust hangs in the air as it disappears, and he smiles. It never gets old, the reminder that he is of such power and, well, beauty.  
  
He’s being rather precarious today - living life on the edge, as the humans say. Literally on the edge - he’s back-down on the cloud with his feet hanging off into the air, face-up at the other clouds that drift on by. Kyungsoo is sure to reprimand him when he returns from the Moon God’s temple, but for now, Jongin will indulge in the way the cool air feels between his toes.  
  
He is bored, simply put. With a wave of his hand, he watches as stardust shimmers in its trail, fading after just a few seconds. Bright blue and silver and teal - it's beautiful, but Jongin is far too used to it. He forms a ball of stardust, the particles flurrying around the space between his palms to form a shape of a sphere, sparkling and oxidised. The beginnings of a star. Jongin holds so much power between his hands, and yet all he does is pull them in and out to watch the ball of stardust expand and contract, eyes glazed with apathy. He lets out another sigh and drops his hands, and therefore allows the ball of stardust to fade.   
  
He remains unmoved even as a large gust of air blows through, causing his hair and silk clothes to flutter around him. Kyungsoo has returned from the Moon God’s temple, and now Jongin has someone to be bored with at the very least.  
  
“Jongin,” comes a stern tone, and Jongin huffs again.  
  
“I know.” He repositions himself so that he’s on his belly instead, and now his face is at the edge, looking down at the earth half-hidden in the fog and clouds.  
  
“That’s not any better,” Kyungsoo says, though his words have noticeably softened.  
  
“It’s beautiful, though,” Jongin says. “Come take a look.”  
  
There is a resigned sigh before Kyungsoo approaches, kneeling besides his love before laying flat on his belly besides him.  
  
“We should be back in the temple,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s nearly nightfall and the stars will need tending to.”  
  
“There are hundreds of Lunar Gods, Kyungsoo, I’m sure they can handle it.” Jongin lowers his hand to let it fall into the air below, watching it sway with the breeze. “How is our lovely Moon God?”  
  
“Junmyeon? Decent,” Kyungsoo answers. “That’s what he says at least. He’s lost another comet, and I can tell the effect is wearing him down.”  
  
“A comet? Who?”  
  
“Seungwan, I think.”  
  
“What is it with these comets? Why do they yearn for the mortal life?”  
  
“They want simplicity,” Kyungsoo says. “Can’t handle the burdens we immortals must bear.”  
  
“Simplicity?” Jongin echoes in disbelief. “You don’t mean to say you think the humans have got it easy, do you?”  
  
“Well, of course,” Kyungsoo blinks at him. “They don’t have the entire galaxy on their shoulders.”  
  
“Neither do we, technically. We aren’t the only Lunar Gods. If we were gone, the rest of the Lunars would have no problem keeping the stars in check. Humans - they have war, and famine, and natural disasters! Not to mention loss, death, and heartbreak.”  
  
Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose, thinking on it as he stares out into the clouds. “I suppose you have a point… but if that were so, why is it that more and more of us are so dedicated to being reborn as humans? First Zitao, now Seungwan - what do the earthlings have that we celestials don’t?”  
  
“They must be bored, I expect,” Jongin mumbles. “Not much to do when we’re up here in the middle of clouds.”  
  
Kyungsoo sighs. “You always manage to actually make me think past my own views. Without you, I’d be an arrogant.”  
  
“What’d you mean without you? As if you aren’t one now?”  
  
Kyungsoo shoves him playfully, smiling as Jongin attempts to make up for his remark by snuggling closer into him, shoulder against shoulder. He rests his cheek against his lover’s shoulder, smiling in content.  
  
For a moment, it’s just the two of them and the quiet breeze, and the love that stands between them, as strong and as loud as ever. Kyungsoo’s smile eventually begins to fall as he starts to think about what Jongin had said before, and he suddenly feels a bit of apprehension well up in him.  
  
“Jongin,” he says suddenly, but quietly. “You… you are unsatisfied, aren’t you? Of this. Of what we are, of what we do.”  
  
“Well, I must admit it isn’t the most fun thing ever,” Jongin confesses. “But I have you. That’s more than enough to keep me happy.”  
  
“Yes, but - me aside. Do you want more? I know how you are. You like adventure, you like change. Staying cooped up in a temple crafting stars isn’t ideal.”  
  
“I was playing with stardust just moments before you arrived. I have methods of entertainment. Where are you going with this?”  
  
“Let’s do it too,” Kyungsoo says, on a whim. “Let’s be reborn as earthlings. Small, weak, powerless. It’ll be different.”  
  
“Pleasant point of view on humans, you got there,” Jongin notes with a chuckle. “You underestimate those earthlings. They’re stronger than you think. Perhaps not on our level of physical strength, but - you know. They have very strong minds. Strong hearts.”  
  
“Is that so?” Kyungsoo hums. “Let’s find out then. I’m curious.”  
  
“They say curiosity killed the cat,” Jongin remarks.  
  
“I’ve no clue what that means.”  
  
“It’s a human saying.”  
  
“You know so much about the mortals and I know so little. How is that?”  
  
“You said it yourself. It’s rather dull up here. Sometimes I like to look down and see what they’re up to. Funny little things, they are.”  
  
“Well, you like games. Dangerous ones, at that. Let’s play one. We’ll be reborn as earthlings over the lifetimes and whoever finds the other first wins.”  
  
Jongin thinks on it. “We’ll need a base. A center. Somewhere we return to when we have found each other in each life, somewhere we know to be a place of reunion for the both of us. A safety net, of sorts.”  
  
“Where did you have in mind?”  
  
“I quite like Venice,” Jongin says, voice having taken on a dreamy tone. “You get lost in Venice. I suppose if we’re going to do this, we should find each other again in a place you’re meant to lose yourself in.”  
  
“So like you to want to defy the laws of nature,” Kyungsoo says, corners of his lips turned up fondly. “To go against the ways of the universe. My little paradox.”  
  
“An interesting term of endearment,” Jongin says, eyes flirting between Kyungsoo and the shapeless clouds. “I like it.”  
  
“I should expect no less from a god whose only motivation in crafting stars is to outshine the others.”  
  
“All others but yours, of course,” Jongin grins. “I’m only making sure they don’t shine brighter than your stars.”  
  
“Ever the considerate.”  
  
“You know it. Anyway - Venice! It’s a lovely place.”  
  
“Well, we’ll need to set rules then.”  
  
“Aye, aye, captain.”  
  
“No shortcuts. We can’t skip ahead to Venice, we must find each other naturally. A face in the crowd.”  
  
Jongin frowns. “What if I am reborn in Venice? I hardly think that would count as cheating as I had no choice in the matter.”  
  
“I am counting on the unlikelihood of that ever happening,” Kyungsoo teases. “There are thousands of cities on Earth and you being born in the one place we chose-”  
  
“-would prove that we are, indeed, fated.”  
  
“Well, I don't think we needed Venice to tell us that.”  
  
“You’re right,” Jongin purrs, leaning forward to peck his lips against Kyungsoo’s. “Fine. No shortcuts, but I can’t promise I might accidentally find myself in Venice. If that’s the case,” he grins up at Kyungsoo, lips curling with mischief, “ you shouldn’t keep me waiting.”  
  
“You’re clingy,” Kyungsoo teases. “We may actually need this time apart.”  
  
Jongin frowns at him, lips forming into a pucker of a pout that has Kyungsoo nudging closer to him fondly, laughing.  
  
“I’m kidding,” Kyungsoo assuages. “I might just…accidentally wind up in Venice as well. It’s rude to keep the love of my life waiting, after all.”  
  
Jongin hums, eyes full of love, heart full of warmth. “We’re terrible at this.” Kyungsoo laughs in agreement, rolling onto his side to face his lover once more.  
  
“So what do you say, Jongin?” Kyungsoo says, grin adorned. “Shall we play with time and destiny? Meddle with mortality?”  
  
“I say yes, Kyungsoo,” Jongin smiles. “Let’s find our youth in falling in love over and over again.”  
  
“For the record,” Kyungsoo hums, tip of his nose brushing Jongin’s as he nears, “I fall in love with you all over again each time the sun rises and sets, reminding me that you are by my side through it all.”  
  
“You sap,” Jongin says, smug grin on his face. “Be honest. Will you survive without me by your side?”  
  
“A good chance not,” Kyungsoo confesses. “I suppose that just means I have to put in the extra effort so I can find you as soon as possible then, my little paradox.”  
  
“No shortcuts,” Jongin reminds.  
  
“Yes, yes, of course. I’ll play fair as long as you do.”  
  
“I suppose neither of us will be playing fair then.”  
  
_“Jongin.”_  
  
“Alright! No shortcuts. However, you can’t stop me from missing you.”  
  
“It’ll make it all the more worthwhile when we find each other again.”  
  
“Are you sure about this? You do know there’s no coming back.”  
  
“Of course. I think it’ll keep us young, running around looking for each other lifetime after lifetime.”  
  
Jongin hums. “Do you have the strength to keep up, old man?”  
  
“I think it’s you I should be worried about,” Kyungsoo laughs. “You have a penchant for getting lost.”  
  
“But I’ll always find my way back to you, won’t I?”  
  
“You will.” The edges of Kyungsoo’s smile is soft, his tone matching. “I know you will.”  
  
Jongin grins at him, but it’s gentler than usual. Not teasing or smug. Just _happy,_ and it makes Kyungsoo warm.  
  
“You have to promise me one thing, though,” Kyungsoo says.  
  
“And what is that, my love?”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles, a little sadly. “You can’t forget about me.”  
  
Jongin huffs. The very idea is incredulous. “As if I would ever forget you.”  
  
“Promise,” Kyungsoo insists anyway.   
  
Jongin means to tease him again, to say that perhaps he will purposely forget him if Kyungsoo has so little faith in him, but he sees the look on Kyungsoo’s face - genuine and concerned.  
  
So he sighs, a heavy breath released, as he smiles one last time as a god at Kyungsoo.  
  
“I promise,” he says, “I will never forget you.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**ix. present**  
  
Tourist trap.  
  
That’s all this place is now. Past the canals and lights floating on water, there is the crowd of foreigners flurrying by, unwrapping their maps and adjusting their visors. It means more people than Kyungsoo is used to, but he doesn’t mind too much. He likes blending in, likes the fact that it’s unlikely someone will pick him out of the bunch. He goes unnoticed, a face in the crowd.  
  
And yet, Kim Jongin picked him out anyway.  
  
Kyungsoo, deterred for a brief moment, gave this Jongin the directions he wanted and sent him off, but the boy had turned around with one last blinding smile and a small thank you, and the memories came rushing back at once. Kyungsoo was then left standing at that canal dumbfounded and more shaken than he would like to admit.  
  
He knows this is not the end of it. Fate was too cruel to give Kyungsoo the peace and closure he needed from all of this. Then again, the mere fact that Kyungsoo permanently moved to this city proved that, perhaps, he didn’t want to move on just yet.  
  
It’s inescapable, he knows that now. Perhaps he should move again, but he knows this will just follow him into other lifetimes. That’s always been the question, hasn’t it? Is there an end to this? Will he himself forget too, eventually? He used to hope he would always remember Jongin, but now, he isn’t sure if he can handle these memories that stay with his heart. He hopes they wither as the lifetimes past, hopes his soul goes with them. By then, Jongin and Kyungsoo will have no memory of each other at all, and well, that’ll be the end of it.  
  
It’s with that last dreadful thought that he closes the door to his building, leaning against it and heaving out a sigh. Something clenches around his heart as he recalls Jongin’s smile, so familiar and lovely and directed at him and only him. His hair was a soft pink. That’s new and very different, but it works for him. Suits him.   
  
How is he to sleep now knowing these memories will seem to follow him around forever?  
  
“Kyungsoo,” calls a voice, from the top of the stairs. He looks up to see his boss and landlady, Heeyeon, looking down at him with worry in her eyes. “Are you alright? Minseok said you took your walk, but that was hours ago. And you’re looking a little pale, dear.”  
  
“I’m alright, Heeyeon,” he says, with an awkward smile. “It’s just a bit chillier outside than I was expecting.”  
  
She tsks. “I keep telling you to bring a coat with you, but you never listen, do you?” A smile creeps onto her lips. “Wash up. I’ve just finished dinner and there’s too much for only the five of us. Besides, little Sehun doesn’t ever seem to want to eat unless you’re around… You’re his favourite hyung, after all.”  
  
Kyungsoo always had a burst of fondness when he was called _hyung_ by one of them, because after all, he was only a glorified babysitter who needed a home. To have found this family and a place with them was an honour he could never dream of. Granted, it was Yifan back in New York who gave him the connections when Kyungsoo expressed interest in moving to Venice. Kyungsoo will always be grateful to him for that.  
  
He marches up the stairs, following Heeyeon once he shakes his mind of thoughts of Kim Jongin and the painful memories that come with him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**  
****ii.**  
  
He hasn’t got a clue where he is, if he is honest. Then he remembers that’s the point.  
  
He isn’t sure why his heart is racing; it’s as if it’s telling him that it’s due time, that it’s meant to happen soon. And Kyungsoo knows it is, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.  
  
“Excuse me, sir,” calls a voice behind him. “Are you lost?”  
  
There’s a familiar mirth to the tone that sounds all too pleased. Kyungsoo smiles before he even turns around.  
  
There, under the yellowing trees and dimming sky, against the softening glow of the sunset, stands his beautiful Jongin, hands tucked into his pockets and floppy smile on his face. He is practically glowing, eyes beaming with warmth as they squish into the half-crescent moons Kyungsoo’s dreamt about for years.  
  
His heart races, an unsteady beat rhythmically thumping against his chest as he struggles for words.  
  
“Not anymore,” he says breathlessly, hopeless smile gracing his own lips. It’s hard to regain even breathing when there is Jongin laughing so heartily and beautifully in front of him, his very existence and presence having Kyungsoo’s breath taken away time and time again.  
  
“You’ve cheated,” Jongin says smartly, perking a brow.  
  
“You have as well,” Kyungsoo retorts, and Jongin accepts this, giving a humble shrug of his shoulders.  
  
It takes less than a second for them to meet each other halfway in a hug that seems to transcend time and space, ultimately throwing them in another world where only the two of them exist. Kyungsoo’s chin digs into Jongin’s neck, a glow starting up in his chest  
  
“After this,” Kyungsoo murmurs into Jongin’s neck, “we play fair. Promise?”  
  
“What if I have a problem?”  
  
“And what problem might that be?”  
  
Jongin frowns for show. “What if I miss you?”  
  
“You sap.” Kyungsoo’s chuckles ring with his whole body as he pulls away, grinning madly. “If you miss me, then we’ll know it’s time.”  
  
“There’s seven billion people in this world, and 196 countries,” Jongin says. “You expect us to find each other naturally?”  
  
“I’m confident we will,” Kyungsoo says, nodding once in affirmation. “Anyway, that’s the point of the game, my dear.”  
  
“Risky game.”  
  
“It’ll keep us young in spirit, like you said. Running around looking for each other, taking on mortality. Reuniting somewhere and falling in love all over again. It’ll keep us...alive.”  
  
“Mortality,” Jongin hums, hands trailing from Kyungsoo’s shoulders to his arms and down to his waist. “Humans are funny. Now I understand why they’re always running around like headless chickens. There’s hardly time to do anything, let alone look for the love of my life.”  
  
“I should be priority.”  
  
“You’ve always been.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles, leaning his forehead in against Jongin’s. “How did yours work then? I remembered everything just about the time I could figure out what the concept of love was. About six. I kept saying your name and my mother thought I had an imaginary friend. I wasn’t even completely aware who you were at the time, I just knew I had to get to you.”  
  
“Mine went the same, more or less,” Jongin says. “You have no idea how much I missed you. I’m not too sure about this game anymore.”  
  
"Well, we've got the rest of our lives together, don't we? This life, at least. Seeing you again, I feel like - I've felt like a different person this entire time and seeing you just brings me back to who I am."  
  
"I see you haven't changed at all," Jongin laughs. "This is nice. Venice is nice, isn't it? Meeting you again. You're right. This is refreshing, and I do feel as if I'm falling for you all over again."  
  
"Venice is confusing and, a maze, really, but it means finding you again, so yeah - it is nice."  
  
"Humans aren't so puny to you now, are they?"  
  
"Actually, I think I managed fairly well," Kyungsoo says. "But that doesn't matter. We're here now."  
  
“Look at us. Mortal and in love. We’ve got a deadline now, you know that. We have a clock on our lives.”  
  
“Yes, but never on our love.”  
  
"I've got this win, right? I found you first, technically."  
  
Kyungsoo chuckles, pulling back just slightly. "I was hoping you'd forgotten but I see winning is all the matters to you still." He means it as a joke, of course, but Jongin still pouts.  
  
"We both cheated, went the shortcut just because we couldn't stand being apart any longer. How about it's a win for both of us?"  
  
"I support this. I win anyway, because I get you in the end."  
  
Jongin grins, his chest warm and as full in his chest as it has ever been. "Yes, I suppose you do."

 

  
  
  
**ix. present**  
  
Kyungsoo does not usually take to large crowds, preferring to stray away from them when he is on one of his walks through the city. Today, however, there’s a crowd oohing and ahhing off to the side of the canal, and Kyungsoo’s interest is peaked. He glances over to see them all huddled around something, and decides it wouldn’t hurt to stray from his normal routine.  
  
Murmuring polite apologies as he passes by, he stands in the crowd too now, on his tiptoes to watch the main attraction. He can’t see over some of the heads that are taller than him, but manages to spot what looks to be two foreign dancers, and a stereo. It’s like they’ve come straight from the 90s.   
  
“Cool, isn’t it?”  
  
Kyungsoo turns, a sudden presence at his side.  
  
Maybe he should just stay inside for all eternity. Yeah, that sounds good.  
  
Jongin is standing there amongst the crowd with him, light smile on his face as he takes his gaze from the dancers to Kyungsoo.  
  
“Hi,” he says. “It’s me again. From yesterday.”  
  
“I remember,” Kyungsoo says. Ironic.  
  
The other man throws him a loose smile, casual yet stunning. Kyungsoo’s got that smile engraved in his heart.  
  
His mouth is dry.  
  
“I’m Jongin,” he says. “Kim Jongin. I’m studying abroad here, from Korea.”  
  
No, don’t do that, Kyungsoo thinks. Don’t introduce yourself, don’t make this connection. Don’t look at me with that sparkle in your eye. _Don’t be here._  
  
“I’m Kyungsoo,” he says anyway, kicking himself. “From New York, actually.”  
  
“New York!” Jongin exclaims, eyes lighting up. “ You’re from America? What brings you to the lovely Venice?”  
  
Kyungsoo shrugs, because well - _you did,_ but that’s not exactly an appropriate thing to say to someone who thinks you’re a stranger.  
  
“Work,” he says. “I nanny for a family here. For about a year now.”  
  
He blinks in surprise. “Oh, that’s cool! You’re like a local, then.”  
  
“I wouldn’t say so,” Kyungsoo says, gaze drifting back towards the dancers. “Maybe just a glamourized tourist.”  
  
“That would make you pretty familiar with Venice then, eh? Thanks for the directions yesterday. I swear if it weren’t for you I’d probably at the bottom of one of these canals.”  
  
“Ah, it’s nothing,” Kyungsoo dismisses. “People get lost here all the time. It’s easy to lose yourself here.”  
  
“But you’re meant to,” Jongin says. “That’s what you said yesterday, right?”  
  
“That’s just a tourist thing, really,” Kyungsoo says, though that’s not how he thought yesterday. “Like something you’d find on a travel brochure. It’s kind of pretentious and… _bait-y_ , actually.”  
  
“I thought it was cool,” Jongin pouts. “I like the meaning behind it. How you might lose yourself in Venice and… you know, forget your name, forget who you are and just live. Not as a person, but you know... as a soul. Lose yourself in this whole other world that Venice is just a bridge to.”  
  
Kyungsoo blinks, perking a brow.   
  
“You’re right, it is pretentious,” Jongin says after a while of tense silence, and Kyungsoo laughs with him.  
  
This is so dangerous, already. It’s so easy for Jongin to draw him in, so easy for them to connect like it’s nothing, so easy to rebuild what they had before. Of course it’s easy; it’s still there, after all - it always will be, and no amount of time can rid of that.  
  
But Kyungsoo must ground himself and remember that this is nothing like what they had before. It’s a mere spark where there once was a blazing inferno.  
  
“You’ve got it down to a T,” Kyungsoo says. “You should be a travel agent.”  
  
“Tourist bait aside!” Jongin exclaims as their chuckles die down. “I liked it. I thought it was charming.”  
  
Kyungsoo just laughs at him, something warm and glowing in his heart. This is risky territory, he knows, and yet - he can’t bring himself to just walk away. It has never been that easy, especially when he would be walking away from Kim Jongin.  
  
“This may be forward,” Jongin says, a slight tentativeness to his tone, “but I need a tour guide of sorts.”  
  
“Tour guide? Thought you liked the idea of getting lost?”  
  
“Okay, sure, but _logically speaking_ , I do still need to get around. Bottom of the canal, remember?”  
  
Snarky, funny, quick with the wit - Jongin is still the same as ever. This comforts Kyungsoo, knowing that, at the very least, Jongin will remain wholly Jongin. It’s the least he can ask for.  
  
“Right,” Kyungsoo lets the corner of his lip lilt up, an automatic response to Jongin’s floppy smile.  
  
“Besides, the only other people I have here are my two friends, who also happen to be a new couple. New couple, Kyungsoo. You wouldn’t subject me to that kind of third wheeling, would you?”  
  
He should walk away, really. He shouldn’t indulge in this, shouldn’t do this to himself, nor to Jongin, who is blissfully oblivious. Kyungsoo isn’t strong enough for this, isn’t strong enough to look Jongin in the eyes and see emptiness every single time.  
  
“Sure, Jongin,” he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop it. “I’ll be your guide.”

 

  
  
  
  
  
**iii.**  
  
The dirt clings to his shoes from the rain, and is sure to be a nuisance to his mother later when she insists on cleaning them. Jongin might just hide them before she can spot them. He's depending on the thought that she may be too overwhelmed by just his presence, that she will not notice his appearance and state. Then again, she's always had a keen eye, even with tears overflowing.  
  
Jongin shifts his bag higher up on his shoulder, stepping through the crowds and weaving his way between them. It would be hard to spot her considering she is barely five feet tall, and as small as a child, but he would recognise her kind eyes anywhere.  
  
Around him, his bunkmates are reuniting with their families, and he is happy for them. There's a clap on his back at some point, and he turns back to smile fondly at a friend before moving on.  
  
Perhaps his mother did not come at all. She had said in the letter that there was a chance she wouldn't, because her leg was getting worse and the physician had advised her to not apply pressure for too long. Perhaps she sent one of their old village friends to fetch him instead.  
  
And amongst the throng of people, amongst the joyous cheers and yelling and hugs, Jongin certainly does find an old friend, but he is not from his village.  
  
His heart immediately stops, breath catching in his throat. He has to blink twice to make sure he isn't imagining things. When the sun passes over, he sees clearly now - he isn't imagining things. There, in the flesh, smiling his favourite smile with the squished up face, is Kyungsoo.  
  
"Hi," says Kyungsoo.  
  
Jongin can't find words, because this is the last person he had expected to see. There is something bitter in his mouth as well, something akin to guilt because for so long Kyungsoo had merely been something of an afterthought in the back of his mind. Of course, when Jongin had to deal with warfare and focus on not getting shot, it would seem understandable, but now, as Kyungsoo stands before him, all he remembers and all he knows is how much he loves him, how much he's missed him, how much he longed for his presence without even realising.  
  
"Hi," he responds, voice weak.  
  
Kyungsoo chuckles in response, as deep and as timber as Jongin remembers, and he feels shudders down his spine as a result.  
  
"I win?" Kyungsoo has the nerve to say, and this, officially, breaks the ice as Jongin feels tears welling up in him, dropping his bag and rushing forward to pull Kyungsoo into his arms.  
  
"You-," he stutters, still looking for words that fail to come to him, "-how did you even find me?"  
  
"It's the most amazing thing," Kyungsoo says. "I'm starting to believe we are meant to meet even if we aren't particularly trying too hard.”  
  
"I can't believe you're here," Jongin says. "I can't- it's been so long without you, and- everything I've seen, everything I've gone through-"  
  
"I know, my love," Kyungsoo assures, his tone soothing. Jongin melts into it, and him, his warmth a comfort that he's missed for so long. "I'm here now."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**ix. present**  
  
As Kyungsoo wakes up this morning, eyes blinking open and immediate dread welling into his system, he debates - briefly - packing up all of his things and moving back to New York. It’s just a flickering thought, but hell is it tempting.  
  
Instead, he forces himself out of the bed in a very ungraceful manner, flopping down onto the floor and catching himself just in time. He lays there for another second, reconsidering his life decisions and wondering why in the hell he is like this. When he agreed to being Jongin’s “guide”, it was as if something else had taken over him, the part of him that is still clutching on to the hope that Jongin will remember.  
  
Otherwise known as the really idiotic, desperate part of him that he tries so hard to keep away. If only for the sake of his heart.  
  
To make matters worse, it’s too bright outside, the sun shining through the window and onto Kyungsoo’s face. He grimaces, and decides that he can’t lay there forever lest he toasts to a crisp.  
  
After he freshens up in his small bathroom, his phone - discarded on his bed - lights up. He peers over, running a towel through his wet hair, and feels his heart thump twice as hard when he sees a text from Kim Jongin.  
  
_Hey, New York. It’s Jongin, from yesterday, and the day before. My friend recommended this coffee shop to meet up at - Caffè del Doge? Does that ring a bell to you?_  
  
Kyungsoo cringes at the name, because that’s a hotspot for tourists looking for a good coffee, but he texts back an agreement nonetheless. It isn’t as if he is unused to it. And anyway, Jongin is a tourist, after all.  
  
By the time he’s replied to Jongin and sets the phone back on his bed, he stares into the air in disbelief and realises - he’s really doing it again. Getting himself into this mess.  
  
He never seems to learn.  
  
* * *  
  
There’s something painfully artistic about the way Kim Jongin looks against the backdrop of a Venice cafe. Like a painting come to life. Jongin is art himself. Venice has nothing on him.  
  
He’s sitting at one of the outdoor tables placed along the street, just outside the cafe itself. Even in between this narrow, crowded street and old buildings lined up much too close together, he manages to stand out. He’s wearing a blazer as well, which just makes him look older, and more mature. And once again, Kyungsoo reconsiders booking the next flight back to America.  
  
Then Jongin is glancing up and noticing his presence, and Kyungsoo has no choice but to put on a smile and pretend that Jongin is just an acquaintance he met yesterday by chance.  
  
“Mornin’,” Jongin greets when Kyungsoo approaches the table, sitting across from him.  
  
“So what’s the plan for today?” Kyungsoo asks. “What do you want to see?”  
  
“You seem to want to get this over with quickly,” Jongin says with a teasing chuckle. Kyungsoo gapes, and shakes his head.  
  
“I didn’t mean to - I mean, I don’t mind showing you around.”  
  
“I’m joking,” he says, grin still on his face. “How about I just trust you to take me to most beautiful spots?”  
  
“Well,” Kyungsoo starts, “there’s the Bridge of Sighs that’s fairly popular, and the museum over by-”  
  
“Not those,” Jongin interrupts. “If I wanted to go to those, I could have just followed my friends around. A man like yourself who’s lived in both New York and Venice must know his way around the tourists. I want you to take me to the hidden spots. The alleyways, the corner bookstores, the places that are…magical, but in their own special way. We could do the bridges and stuff some other time. I mean, if that’s alright with you.”  
  
It’s funny, Kyungsoo thinks, the fact that he has to show around this Jongin when the Jongin he remembers knew Venice inside and out. When he realises this, a knot forms in his gut, tugging and pulling at him. Jongin knew every nook and cranny of this city, and although there are more tourists these days, not much has changed from the last time they were here together, in a whole other life. Except, really, everything has changed.  
  
“Wanting to avoid the tourist traffic?” Kyungsoo asks.  
  
“Well, that, yes,” Jongin says, “but also because I think the smaller things should be appreciated too. What would this place be without them?”  
  
So he wants the quiet places, the back alleys with doorways that stay hidden, the narrow streets.  
  
“I think you’ll find what you’re looking for in Cannaregio, then.”  
  
Jongin grins, that familiar sparkle in his eyes glinting.  
  
“Lead the way.”

 

  
  
  
**iv.**  
  
“Kyungsoo-yah! You work too hard. You need a break sometimes, you know?”  
  
Lu Han comes marching down the street just as Kyungsoo closes up the shop, grin adorned. Seulgi’s with him, as usual; the two of them always picked up Kyungsoo from the shop and walked him home just so they can get some dinner from Kyungsoo’s mother.  
  
“Sure,” Kyungsoo laughs. “Did you happen to pick up the paper?”  
  
“I did. Why don’t you try reading a book for once, like a normal person, hm?”  
  
“I don’t think books will keep me up to date on the world’s disastrous political matters, would they?”  
  
“No, but they’ll be a good distraction. I think you’re in need of one these days.”  
  
“I like to live in the real world, thanks,” Kyungsoo brushes him off with a teasing grin.  
  
Lu Han rolls his eyes and nudges Seulgi. “That’s code for ’I’m a boring stick in the mud’.”  
  
“I can hear you,” Kyungsoo says, tucking the newspaper under his arm and wrapping his arm around Lu Han’s neck in a loose grip, pulling him into a playful headlock. Lu Han laughs and pulls at Seulgi’s sleeve to help him, but she only pulls back and watches on with half-amusement and half-embarassment.  
  
Kyungsoo releases Lu Han with one last laugh and a pat on the back, muttering a small thanks for retrieving the paper for him. Today’s headline, surprisingly, does not involve anything involving political disputes between countries at war. It’s safe, today. Something in Kyungsoo is relieved.  
  
As Lu Han and Seulgi go off down the street without him, calling him to hurry up or he’ll have cold soup for dinner, Kyungsoo’s eyes flit over the front page almost carelessly at first, brushing over something seemingly pointless.  
  
But then his eyes go back to it and something worms in his gut. Something that starts as just a tiny spark, but then turns into an inferno, burning up his chest. His heart stops altogether.  
  
“Jongin?”  
  
It’s been years since he muttered that name, and suddenly, he isn’t standing on this street. He closes his eyes and he is in a temple high in the sky, alone with his god who played with stardust as if he didn’t have the power to destroy an entire universe with one wave of the hand.  
  
His heart aches.  
_  
__ROOKIE KIM SCORES WINNING RUN_  
  
These are the words that lay above the long photo of a man decked in a baseball uniform, looking at something above in the horizon. This man is no other than that god Kyungsoo shared kisses with so long ago.  
  
And suddenly, Kyungsoo is laughing.  
  
He’s laughing, and he’s also crying, and next he’s dropping to his knees and bringing a hand to his mouth to muffle his cries. Lu Han’s next to him again too now, hand on his back and asking what in the world could possibly be wrong. It’s all a blur, this moment to that moment to the next, and Kyungsoo cannot keep track of it. The only thing that remains constant is the thought that he’s found him again.  
  
* * *  
  
It should be no surprise to Kyungsoo that Jongin would use his newfound fame as a way to get to Kyungsoo. In other words, it’s a very sneaky loophole that he’s managed to find.  
  
“Doesn’t this count as a shortcut?” is the first thing Kyungsoo says when he sees Jongin again.  
  
Jongin looks as young as ever, standing before him on the Bridge of Sighs with his hands yet again tucked into his pockets, with that floppy smile adorned once more. It’s all so familiar, and yet, so much has changed.  
  
He steps closer, dimple deepening in his cheek. “Of course not.”  
  
“Well, you didn’t find me, technically,” Kyungsoo teases, heart pounding faster the closer Jongin comes.” You just relayed a message to me in the newspaper.”  
  
“Kyungsoo, the only thing that matters now is that we’re together.”  
  
“Your evasion techniques are not stellar, my love,” Kyungsoo laughs, just as he’s pulled into a giant bear hug.  
  
Jongin is warm against him, his shoulder the perfect height for Kyungsoo to rest his chin on. His own arms snake their way around his waist, pulling the taller even closer to him and fisting the fabric of his shirt into his palms. It’s all just incredibly familiar, like coming home, and it hits Kyungsoo in this one final wave.  
  
“I win this round, just admit it,” Jongin mutters into his shirt, half laughing and half crying.  
  
Kyungsoo lets out a small chuckle. “I will give you bonus points for creativity and dedication, how about that?”  
  
“I worked my way up from little league for this?” Jongin gapes, affronted.  
  
“Fine,” Kyungsoo gives in as they pull back from each other. “You’ve worked hard, my love. You win.”  
  
“I’m joking, of course,” Jongin murmurs, softer now, his expression matching his voice. “I don’t mind winning or losing, as long as I get you in the end.”  
  
“As it should be,” Kyungsoo nods, feeling something wet drip down his cheeks. Jongin lifts a finger to wipe at it.  
  
“I’ve missed you too much,” he says. “These lifetimes seem to be getting longer and longer the more I’m away from you.”  
  
“You know the solution to that then,” Kyungsoo says. “Look for me faster, why won’t you?”  
  
Jongin practically giggles, full of mirth and happiness. “Sure. In the next life, I’ll be in diapers travelling the world to look for you.”  
  
“The very minute you learn how to crawl, I’d better see you at my side soon.”  
  
Jongin laughs, his smile bright and blinding. Kyungsoo revels in it, but watches as it turns bittersweet, almost.  
  
“Was this such a good idea?” Jongin says, quiet now. “We can’t take it back, you know. Living without you for all these years makes me feel… empty, in a way. Like I’m missing a part of me.”  
  
“It should teach you independence, dear,” Kyungsoo says. “Look at you! Winning baseball games! Learn who you are without me. And when we’re ready, we meet again. I quite like this arrangement.”  
  
Jongin pouts. “You just want time away from me.”  
  
“Are you joking? These years have been torture without you. I just-” he swallows, looking all over Jongin’s face and taking in every detail he remembers, “-I love this. I love reuniting with you. I love seeing you again. I feel like my heart does a little jump in my chest whenever we do meet again. I feel like...this keeps us _alive._ ”  
  
There’s something uncertain in Jongin’s eyes, a flash of something that almost seems like fear. Maybe doubt? Kyungsoo tries not to linger on it.  
  
“You’re right,” Jongin hums, moving in so that his nose brushes Kyungsoo’s. “There is a thrill to this, isn’t there?”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**ix. present**  
  
"You’re right," Jongin says. "This place is much more romantic at night."  
  
There are golden lights dotted along the canal, lanterns from where the gondolas are placed. The water of the canals are still, stars of the sky shining in its surface. The brick beneath them is slick from the rain earlier that day, the golden lights casted across its reflections so that the landscape looks like a painting come to life.  
  
"Thought you didn't care for the gondolas?" Kyungsoo asks with a grin that he cannot help.  
  
"Come on, Kyungsoo, I can't pretend to be blasé about everything that’s mainstream. Gondolas are a Venice must."  
  
The gondolier had been reluctant to give them a ride, given that the sun is down and generally, all rides are taken in the morning - but Jongin is very insistent and persuasive, as Kyungsoo knows first hand.  
  
“It’s beautiful here,” Jongin murmurs, eyes drifting across the sky. After a moment, he leans over the side of the boat to let his fingers brush against the water, smiling to himself.  
  
Kyungsoo chuckles. “You should have seen it before. Far less litter and tourists.”  
  
“Before?” Jongin asks.  
  
“Just in general,” Kyungsoo says with a tight smile. Jongin doesn’t notice.  
  
“I like it anyhow. I feel so free here. Nothing like I felt back home.” He’s quiet for a while, the silence between them stretching. When he next speaks, it’s with a tentative tone. “Do you ever… do you ever feel trapped, where you are? Like there’s no way out for you. Like you feel so… I don’t know how to explain it.”  
  
Kyungsoo lets out a harsh chuckle, because he knows exactly what he means. “Like everything feels pointless?”  
  
“Yeah. Like - we’re both new adults right? Now that we are, it’s like… well, what now? We go to school to get a job, we get a job to get money, we get money to eat and survive, but where do we ourselves come into that? I don’t see the point in a life like that… Staying in one place your whole life and doing the same thing over and over again. Living back home, knowing that was my fate - I felt like I was missing out on something.” He lifts his head to smile at Kyungsoo. “And I found it here.”  
  
“Not to ruin the mood,” Kyungsoo says, “but you’ve been here for two days.”  
  
At this, Jongin laughs, heartily and with a cheeky grin. “Hey, you’re right. Doesn’t make me love it any less.”  
  
“Can’t argue with that,” Kyungsoo says with a soft smile.  
  
They’re quiet for a while, the water still beneath them. It certainly is magical here at night. Kyungsoo’s almost forgotten. He’d been here so long that he’s forgotten to take a moment every once in awhile to appreciate what’s around him.  
  
“What about you?” Jongin asks suddenly.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Why did you move here?”  
  
Strangely enough, Kyungsoo realises that he and Jongin’s reasonings for coming to Venice in this lifetime, as well as the other lifetimes, don’t differ much. Kyungsoo came here in hopes of filling the empty pit inside him, in hopes of getting over the fact that Kim Jongin would not remember him again. So when Yifan told him of his friend Minseok and his family needing a sitter of sorts, Kyungsoo took it.  
  
“I wanted to move here,” Kyungsoo says. “I nanny for a friend of a friend, since it was offered to me.”  
  
“Hell of an opportunity,” Jongin says. “I see why you took it.”  
  
“Well, like you said. There’s hardly any satisfaction in the life that others hand us. We have to make our own choices to do what we want and I wanted to live here.”  
  
Jongin smiles at him then, eyes sparkling like the stars’ reflection in the water. “I’m glad I met you, Kyungsoo,” he says, alarmingly soft and with a tender tone that makes the back of Kyungsoo’s neck tickle. “I’m glad it’s you I ran into that day. I’d say it’s like fate, but I don’t want to scare you off.” He laughs then, looking away and back at the night sky.  
  
Kyungsoo can only smile thinly as the curl in his gut tightens.  
  
Jongin’s words are dangerous, and they hold so much more meaning than he might think.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**v.**  
  
It's chaos.  
  
He's being dramatic, really, but it certainly feels chaotic.  
  
There's something new everyday, at the very least. He's never bored.  
  
He rings this customer up almost frantically quick, the reminder that a cake is still in the oven lingering at the back of his mind and having his anxiety shoot up. The customer, somewhat panicked from his state, seems to take the hint and pays quickly, taking her box of cookies from the counter and leaving the shop with a quick bow and thanks. Kyungsoo manages a smile in return before he's darting off back into the kitchen and pulling his cake out of the oven, nearly forgetting his oven mitts in the process. At the same time, he hears a frantic voice back from in the shop, calling him.  
  
"Uncle!"  
  
He huffs, nearly tripping over his feet at the shock of the loud call, but he manages to place the cake on the counter neatly.  
  
"What is it, dear?" he calls, rushing back into the shop. He's practically sweating bullets at this point.  
  
At the table in the corner sits his godson, legs swinging as he's perched onto the pink chair. He's pouting at his cupcake, the cream having made its way all over his mouth and cheeks. Kyungsoo assumes this is what he's upset about. The boy had always been very nitpicky about being clean.  
  
He sighs, grabbing a napkin on his way over to the boy.  
  
"You should eat slower, Jongdae, so you won't make a mess."  
  
"But it's really good," Jongdae frowns. "I'm sorry."  
  
"No need to be sorry," Kyungsoo smiles in assurance, wiping at his mouth. "Should I cut it into pieces for you and get a fork?"  
  
Judging from the wide smile on Jongdae's face, Kyungsoo takes this as a yes, and pats his head once before returning to the counter to retrieve a knife and fork. Jongdae plays with his toy truck as he waits, running it across the table and making vroom vroom noises and spluttering his lips.  
  
"Is that better?" Kyungsoo asks, once the cupcake is all cut up into kid-friendly pieces. Jongdae nods and takes the offered plastic fork, before digging in heartily. He grins in content, and Kyungsoo smiles in return.  
  
It's a nice moment of peace before the bell rings with another customer, and Kyungsoo sighs. Back to the grind.  
  
"What can I get for you?" Kyungsoo asks before turning around, already making his way back to the counter.  
  
"The Lunar Cannoli sounds interesting," the customer says, and well - the voice is all it takes for Kyungsoo's heart to start beating erratically in his chest.  
  
"Jongin," he says, lifting his head to meet the customer's eyes.  
  
"Hi," Jongin says. "It's been a while."  
  
That's an understatement. It's been longer than usual. In the first, they'd met when they were eighteen. In the second, when they were twenty three. And now? Now Kyungsoo is thirty eight and had just discovered yet another strand of grey hair that morning.  
  
"Yeah, it has," Kyungsoo murmurs, unable to take his eyes off of Jongin, who looks to be his age if not younger.  
  
"Jongdae?" Kyungsoo calls, "Do you wanna take a walk with Biscuit?"  
  
* * *  
  
They sit on a bench at the park across the street from Kyungsoo’s bakery. Jongdae plays fetch with Biscuit just yards away on the grass, the little one laughing when the corgi tackles him and licks at his face.  
  
Kyungsoo and Jongin themselves are quiet. They don’t quite know where to start. What do you say to someone you haven’t seen in a lifetime worth of years?  
  
And suddenly, Kyungsoo isn't sure why, but the need to spout apologies suddenly arise.  
  
"I'm… sorry, Jongin, I've been so busy. This is… I can't believe I've nearly forgotten about-"  
  
"Me?" Jongin says meekly, shrugging, and that single action is enough to make Kyungsoo feel fowl. "It's alright, Kyungsoo. I can't say it didn't happen to me too. It's bound to happen, isn't it? We're bound to get caught up in our lives. It's like I said. The mortals don't have it easy. There is so much to do before we die."  
  
"Morbid, but true," Kyungsoo sighs, eyes glazed over the horizon and Jongdae playing with Biscuit in the distance.  
  
"So... A kid, huh?" Jongin asks, something tentative in his tone.  
  
"My godson," Kyungsoo says. "His parents died a few years ago so… yeah, he's mine. He's a good kid. I love him a lot. Which is why I have to make sure he gets the happiest life he can get."  
  
"I get it,” Jongin smiles reassuringly. “I understand, Kyungsoo.”  
  
"Jongin,” Kyungsoo starts, his tone lower and more serious now. “I want you to know that I wasn't going to just dismiss you completely. I had plans. I put aside an account, specifically for Venice, but you know, I just… had to keep pulling from it when I was running low. Things get so overwhelming, and-"  
  
"Kyungsoo, I don't want our time together to be spent explaining the years we spent busy and apart. It's alright. I told you. This is tough. But we're here now, right?"  
  
"I don't think you expected a kid to come with the package."  
  
"He seems sweet," Jongin says. "I love kids."  
  
"He is sweet. He deserves the very best. I want to give him that since he's lost everything else."  
  
"I understand, I do," Jongin says, smiling as a reassurance. "You don't have to explain anything, Kyungsoo."  
  
Kyungsoo bites his lip, but accepts Jongin's hand moulding into his. It feels familiar, but strange at the same time, simply because it's been far too long. Kyungsoo wraps his fingers around Jongin's and welcomes him when he moves in closer, his warmth emanating off of him.  
  
"I have to admit, I got scared for a minute because I thought the kid was yours by blood," Jongin chuckles. “Not that I’d have a problem being with you if that were the case.”  
  
Kyungsoo laughs. "It's only you, my love. It'll only ever be you. I haven't even thought of anyone that way."  
  
"Me too. Though, I suppose Jongdae might think it's weird, having me suddenly around."  
  
"He'll like you, I know it," Kyungsoo says, confident. "You two are a lot alike."  
  
Jongin smiles at this, thin-lipped, and looks out fondly at Jongdae playing with Biscuit. They’re quiet then, but it isn’t awkward. It’s as if they’re just trying to make up for lost time, just trying to enjoy the other’s presence. Kyungsoo feels, too, as if they’re just at a lost of what to say, simply because it’s been too long. It isn’t like meeting a familiar stranger, because Jongin can never be a stranger to Kyungsoo, no matter how long they spend apart. He will always have a place in his heart.

“You were right, all that time ago,” Kyungsoo says. “That the mortals don’t have it easy. It’s rough. It’s… you really do have to have a strong heart to deal with half of the things humans do.” Kyungsoo stares out at Jongdae again, eyes glazed. “When his parents died, he was ruined for months. It took a long time before he opened back up to me. And...it was hard for me too, of course. His parents were my best friends. Every time I see Jongdae, I see his father and mother, and I...feel that heartbreak all over again. I’m trying, though. For him. I’m trying.”

Jongin squeezes Kyungsoo’s hand in his own, and that is enough to make Kyungsoo feel better. Things would have been easier if Jongin were here beside him throughout it all.

“You’re very strong, Kyungsoo,” Jongin says. “I know this for a fact. And it is rough down here, I know it. There’s...there’s homophobia, racism, death, loss and heartbreak. But I think living like this...makes love all the more worthwhile. It makes it special, knowing there’s someone for you to help hold you up and keep you standing. And this-” Jongin gestures to the park around them - the trees, the greenery and the patches of flowers that Jongdae and Biscuit play in. “I think it’s beautiful. Your family is beautiful. There’s good to all of this, too. We just have to take the bad with the good."  
  
"Some game," Kyungsoo says softly. "We used to craft entire stars, Jongin. To think that something as small and trivial as time can stop us now..."  
  
"It's a condition of the game," Jongin says with a nudge and a grin. It's meant to be a joke, but Kyungsoo can only shrink in on himself bitterly. It seems ridiculous now to think of his and Jongin's love as a _game_ especially if these are the circumstances. Something fowl begins to stir in him, but he holds back the words he wants to say, because he wanted this after all. He wanted to play this idiotic game.  
  
"You're right," Kyungsoo says, hushed. The lack of humour in his tone has Jongin frowning in concern. "I suppose we just have to make do."  
  
"Are you alright?" Jongin asks.  
  
"I'm fine," Kyungsoo says, and forces a smile despite himself. He is fine. He should be. He has Jongin by his side now, he should not waste what little time they have left by pondering over their decisions.  
  
"I have you, and Jongdae," Kyungsoo says. "Everything is fine."

 

  
  
  
**ix. present**  
  
After Jongin figures he’s ready to face the hell that is overcrowded tourist attractions, he lets Kyungsoo take him to more popular places. In tow, is Jongin’s two friends who accompanied him on this trip, Chanyeol and Sehun. They’re the epitome of tourists, map folded out in front of them as they walk, whipping their phones out to take pictures of everything and anything. Kyungsoo laughs as Chanyeol poses in front of _Doge’s Palace_ with none other than a shameless dab. Sehun and Chanyeol seem to encourage each other’s quirkiness, whereas Jongin and Kyungsoo walk several steps ahead of them, slightly embarrassed but mostly just amused.  
  
“Why’s it called the Bridge of Sighs?” Sehun asks as they cross a short, enclosed bridge that lays over a canal.  
  
“There’s a bunch of theories,” Kyungsoo says. “But I think the most popular is that this bridge is often the path that prisoners used to take when they’re on their way to the executioner. They would, you know, sigh, and look out at the world one last time.”  
  
“History is so cool,” Sehun says, now snapping a photo of the bridge. As Chanyeol rushes up to get inside the frame, Jongin wanders off to the edge of the bridge, pressing a little close to the window.  
  
Kyungsoo, curious, follows him.  
  
“Careful there,” he says. Jongin chuckles.  
  
“Thanks for showing us around. I know it’s not the most interesting thing to do, showing a bunch of tourists around a place you know well enough already.”  
  
“Ah, it’s fine,” Kyungsoo waves a hand. “I don’t have much to do on my off days anyway. I usually just walk around the city, so I mean… nothing’s changed. I just have company now.”  
  
Jongin turns his gaze to him, something considerate in his eyes as he seems to size up Kyungsoo. “Has anyone ever told you you’re really awesome?”  
  
“I get that almost everyday, why?”  
  
Jongin laughs, nudging Kyungsoo with his elbow lightly. Kyungsoo allows himself a laugh too, something sparking inside his chest before it dims out once more.  
  
“You just are. I’m glad I met you.”  
  
Kyungsoo manages a little smile, even if something bittersweet is taking a hold of his heart. “I’m glad I met you too,” he says in the end.  
  
Jongin’s gaze lingers on him a little too long, faint smile on his face, and Kyungsoo feels unnerved. That is, until Chanyeol is yelling something from across the other end of the bridge - something about him being hungry.  
  
* * *  
  
They stand outside a bakery. Jongin had been the brave volunteer to actually go into the shop to get something small for them to snack on, enduring the Wrath of Tourism. Kyungsoo leans against the outer brick wall, listening amusedly to Chanyeol and Sehun’s stories about their lives in South Korea.  
  
“During the school year, Jongin would always go on and on about how he had to go to Venice,” Chanyeol says, munching on a granola bar he found in his backpack since he couldn’t be bothered to wait for Jongin. “Well, all of Europe, really, but Venice was always the first stop. The most important. So we saved up over the past few years. All went together. Dunno if we’ll have time to go to other places in Europe but Jongin seems to be satisfied for now, I think. Thank god.”  
  
“I’m a struggling college student, I don’t have the funds to be dragged along to every country in Europe,” Sehun adds. “It’s nice here, though. I’ll give him that. I understand why he wanted to come here. Though I shouldn’t be surprised that the moment we step foot here, he gets lost and finds a cute boy to ditch us for.”  
  
Kyungsoo tries not to redden, but feels his face heat up anyway, because he is most likely the cute boy they speak of.  
  
“He said something about it being because he didn’t want to third wheel,” Kyungsoo laughs.  
  
It’s as if the words trigger something in the both of them. Chanyeol chokes on his granola bar and Sehun actually lifts his head up from his phone, blinking at Kyungsoo in disbelief.  
  
“Uh, he said what?” Sehun asks, and Kyungsoo definitely sees some red at the tip of his ears.  
  
“That you’re a new couple?” Kyungsoo says carefully, wondering if he’s said something he wasn’t supposed to. Chanyeol clears his throat in a messy manner and Sehun is avoiding both their gazes. Kyungsoo grins. Clearly, there’s a case of pining going on here that neither will acknowledge. Now, Kyungsoo feels as if he is third wheeling.  
  
“I’ll, uh, go see how Jongin is faring,” Kyungsoo says, trying to control the quirk of his lip, but he can’t help it.  
  
It’s not too crowded in the shop, but just enough for Kyungsoo to have to navigate his way around the mass of tourists and foreigners to find Jongin at the front of the crowd, looking at the displays of pastries with his brows furrowed.  
  
"How's it going?" Jongin asks, once he realises Kyungsoo’s at his side.  
  
"Well, I think I just said something I wasn't supposed to and now they're out there as red as the tomatoes in my employer’s garden.”  
  
“Right,” Jongin says. "I should have mentioned that they don't actually know they're a couple yet."  
  
"I would have thought they were married," Kyungsoo says with a grin.  
  
"Exactly my point," Jongin laughs. "So, Mr. Local. What's the best choice here?"  
  
He gestures to the wide array of baked goods, hand on his chin like he's in deep thought and agony over which to purchase.  
  
Kyungsoo hums. “Tough choice. Depends on what you’re in the mood for.”  
  
“What would you recommend?”  
  
“Well, I’d say the _pan del doge_ is a must, for sure.”  
  
“I’ll take twenty, then.”  
  
“Hang on,” Kyungsoo laughs. “Don’t you want to at least get a little of each? So you can try them all?”  
  
“Would you recommend them all?”  
  
“I mean,” Kyungsoo says, “sure?”  
  
“Then we’ll get one of each!”  
  
“You’re crazy,” Kyungsoo chuckles. Jongin only grins at him before stepping up and speaking to the pastry chef in his best English.  
  
Out of all the treats in this humble bakery, Jongin is by far the sweetest.

 

  
  
  
  
**vi.**  
  
In the sixth life, Kyungsoo and Jongin are together and married by the time they’re twenty-five.  
  
It’s all Kyungsoo can ask for. Every morning he wakes to Jongin by his side, to Jongin cooking breakfast, to Jongin’s kiss on his cheek. It’s as if nothing’s changed.  
  
The thing is - Jongin hasn't remembered just yet who he is, who Kyungsoo is, and what they ever were.  
  
Kyungsoo calls for patience, and he has plenty of it, but what he lacks is the assurance that Jongin will even remember at all. He looks at Jongin and he sees his beautiful God who shared kisses with him in a temple high above the earth; he sees his soldier, his softball player. This Jongin is still the same, he knows this much. He hasn't changed, despite his memories unbeing of his own.  
  
Kyungsoo thought it was a joke, at first. It would be something Jongin would pull, a trick he'd play just for fun, but never for this long. He wasn't cruel. Time, apparently, is. Kyungsoo had found him, but Jongin was still lost.  
  
They met in this life when they were sixteen. Kyungsoo recognised him immediately. He also recognised that drop in his gut when he realised Jongin did not. He stayed with him, hoping that one day Jongin would wake up and remember Kyungsoo and remember their temple, remember who they both were and how they had even got there.  
  
But he didn’t, simply believing that this life was his sole life and Kyungsoo was but another person he happened to meet and fall in love with. He proposed when they were 23, and Kyungsoo accepted, because although Jongin did not remember, being with him was enough.  
  
Now, ten years later, Kyungsoo is beginning to wonder if it really is enough.  
  
It isn’t the same, somehow. Jongin is still Jongin, of course, but at the same time, he isn’t. Not Kyungsoo’s Jongin, anyway.  
  
They’re out with some friends tonight. The waitress makes some remark about Kyungsoo and Jongin being a cute couple, and out of obligation (or so Kyungsoo thinks), Yixing and Junmyeon ask them how they met.  
  
“It was like fate,” Jongin says, in a very Jongin-fashion, eyes dazed in that dreamy way. “He called my name. ‘Jongin,’ he said, and at first I just thought it was my friend about to tell me to get off the game so he can play. But it wasn’t. I turned around, and it was a complete stranger. So I said ‘How do you know my name?’ And would you believe it? He looked shaken, blushing to his roots. He was stuttering,” Jongin pauses to chuckle. “He was so cute. And he said he’d asked someone what my name was so that he can get the courage to talk to me. I think that was pretty much the moment I fell for him.”  
  
It’s a story Jongin knows by heart, eyes lighting up every time he retells it. Of course, the story is a little different to Kyungsoo. He didn’t ask anyone for Jongin’s name. He wasn’t just some stranger in an arcade gathering the courage to talk to the cute boy playing on the Defender coin-op. He was Kyungsoo, and he was Jongin, and they were here at last once more. When Kyungsoo approached Jongin only to see the unfamiliar look in his eyes, the light in his heart dimmed and he searched for the proper words, wanting to run away the whole time.  
  
He doesn’t say any of this, of course. He lets Jongin tell the story as he remembers it, and he smiles along with him. Yixing and Junmyeon coo at the appropriate parts and immediately fawn as Jongin also retells the day of their wedding. Jongin’s always gotten a kick out of this, always loved showing off his and Kyungsoo’s relationship, and loved when they were dubbed as the most married of their friend group, inseparable and fated.  
  
That night, when they get home, Kyungsoo is quieter than usual.  
  
“You good?” Jongin asks when he gets out of the shower, joining Kyungsoo on their bed. He rests his chin on his shoulder, winding his arms around him.  
  
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, smiling and leaning back into his embrace. “Just tired.”  
  
Jongin hums. “Are you sure? You’ve been quiet all night.”  
  
“No,” Kyungsoo says, “I mean, I was just - letting you tell your story.”  
  
“My story?” Jongin says. “It’s our story.”  
  
“Pretty sure it’s yours,” Kyungsoo mumbles, pulling his socks off and throwing them aside.  
  
Jongin blinks at him. “Since when was it mine? You’re in it too, aren’t you? It’s the story of how we met.”  
  
“I’ll be honest and say it’s not exactly how I remember it, but alright,” Kyungsoo murmurs, to himself mostly, out of pure bitterness. Jongin hears him anyway.  
  
“What do you mean? If you’re upset that I told them then…”  
  
“God, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, exasperated and throwing his head into his hands. It’s killing him. “I’m not… I’m not mad at you.”  
  
Kyungsoo feels Jongin stiffen behind him. “Then why are you quiet, and why are you talking to me like this?”  
  
“I’m just...frustrated.”  
  
“At me?”  
  
“No! No - god, I just… I’m tired, I told you. Can we just sleep?”  
  
Jongin is silent for a moment, before speaking again as he unwinds his arms away from Kyungsoo’s waist. “You are mad.”  
  
“I’m _not_ , I swear. I’m just exhausted.” It’s the truth, really.  
  
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says, softer now. “Please tell me what’s on your mind. “  
  
“Jongin, stop pushing. It’s not helping. I want to sleep.”  
  
Jongin looks at him earnestly, his eyes filled with anguish. “And I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”  
  
“Nothing is wrong!”  
  
“Clearly something is!”  
  
“I’m fine!”  
  
“Then why are you raising your voice? Why are you getting upset? Why are you being so distant?”  
  
“Because you broke your promise!”  
  
Jongin falters at that, and Kyungsoo kicks himself internally. It just came out. The frustration and fear that has built up for too long, _too long,_ is finally getting to him.  
  
“Promise?” Jongin says, meek in the quiet room.  
  
“Forget I said anything.”  
  
“No, Kyungsoo. Enough of that,” Jongin says. He doesn’t sound upset anymore, just hurt - and that’s what gets Kyungsoo the most, because he’d rather he be angry with him. “Tell me what I did wrong, because I’m feeling pretty shitty right now if I can’t even remember what I promised.”  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Kyungsoo says, unable to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”  
  
The look of pain on Jongin’s face is too much to bear. “Just tell what I did wrong,” he whispers.  
  
“You didn’t do anything, Jongin, I’m sorry. I should have never brought it up.”  
  
“What promise, Kyungsoo? Please just tell me.”  
  
And for a moment, when Kyungsoo finally lifts his head up to look Jongin in the eyes, he thinks he sees something familiar there. He thinks he sees his Jongin, his real Jongin, the Jongin who knows him.  
  
He sees hope, he sees a chance, and he takes it, hoping he isn’t deluding himself into seeing anything.  
  
It’s a test, he thinks. He just wants to see what would happen. How he’d react.  
  
“You said you’d never forget me,” Kyungsoo murmurs, cracked and broken and now unable to take his eyes off of him.  
  
As expected, Jongin merely blinks.  
  
In confusion.  
  
“Forget you?” he asks, and that’s all the answer Kyungsoo needs. Jongin still doesn’t recall.  
  
His heart throbs painfully in his chest.  
  
He wish he could forget as well.  
  
“I’m going to sleep,” he says, wiping at an eye quickly before Jongin could see the tear there.  
  
“Kyungsoo.”  
  
“Sleep, Jongin. We have work tomorrow.”  
  
He hears Jongin call his name again, a little more urgently this time, but he doesn’t listen, climbing into the covers of their bed. He lifts it over his head and faces opposite Jongin, a little further away than he would usually be. Jongin is stiff as he gets into the bed as well, but he doesn’t try to coerce Kyungsoo into telling him anything anymore. He’s glad. He wants to sleep, and forget, momentarily, who he is, who Jongin is, and whatever pasts they had before that Jongin can’t seem to recall.  
  
* * *  
  
When Kyungsoo blinks his eyes open, it’s still dark. The bedside clock shows it’s merely 2:43 am. There’s another blanket on top of him too, a woollen one, one he doesn’t remember putting there.  
  
He turns in the bed, rubbing his eye, and sees that the space besides him is empty, the sheets and pillowcase wrinkled.  
  
Jongin is gone from their bed, but Kyungsoo can see him out on the patio through the glass doors of their bedroom, the curtains pushed aside to reveal the younger man sitting on the wire bench and facing the rest of city. Kyungsoo cannot see his face, but he knows he must be in thought. It must be bad if he has to get out of bed and into fresh air.  
  
He disregards their fight from earlier that night and raises himself from the bed to meet him outside, dragging a blanket along. Jongin doesn’t acknowledge him yet, but when Kyungsoo drapes the blanket on Jongin’s shoulders, he lifts his head to peer up at Kyungsoo with conflicted eyes.  
  
"Why are you out here, Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks, seating himself besides him.  
  
There’s a brief moment of silence before Jongin speaks. Tense. "Kyungsoo."  
  
Never in any lifetime has Kyungsoo heard his voice so broken, so torn. When the moonlight hits Jongin’s face, he finally realises the water welling in Jongin's eyes, and yet, they are empty all the same.  
  
"Jongin," Kyungsoo says, edging closer until their shoulders brush.  
  
"The temple," Jongin says abruptly, just before pursing his lips, closing his eyes and letting a tear fall down his face.  
  
That is all he says, but that's enough for Kyungsoo to understand. Something in him collapses. He wants to yell into the night and scream finally! He feels a rush of cold relief overwhelm him, but it’s quickly followed by dread and fear.  
  
It isn't long before more tears fall from Jongin’s face, and he begins crying uncontrollably, but silently, burying his face in Kyungsoo's shoulder and murmuring apologies that get lost in the cool of the night.  
  
“I don’t know why…” Jongin says. “When you...when you said I broke your promise, I laid in bed all night trying to figure out what I promised you and it - it hit me all in one go suddenly, and I… I saw you? And me? In the clouds. We were together. You called me your...your little paradox. And god, it all just...I don’t understand how it’s so clear to me now when it’s been gone this entire time.”  
  
There is fear in Jongin's cries, desperation, a longing to hold onto what they both know is fading and what they both know is bound to disappear completely.  
  
Kyungsoo hushes him, rubbing at his back and feeling his eyes prickle too, because he doesn’t know why either.  
  
Then there is hope in Kyungsoo's hushes, in the way his hand ghosts over Jongin's back and weaves into his hair. It's an inkling, but it's something. They are still together despite it all.  
  
“I remember,” Jongin repeats, a whisper now, into the fabric of Kyungsoo’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Kyungsoo presses him closer, kissing the top of his head gently to assure him that he is here. That he always has been, and that will never change.  
  
They are quiet, Jongin’s hushed cries echoing through the night. The question on both of their minds: why?  
  
They are here now and that matters most of all, but there’s a spark of fear in the both of them that threatens their presence together on this earth.

 

  
  
  
**  
****ix. present**  
  
“One more story?” Baekhyun asks, eyes pleading and voice hopeful.  
  
“It’s late, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo chuckles, pulling the blanket up to the boy’s chin.  
  
“Please?”  
  
“Goodnight,” Kyungsoo says with emphasis. “I spent all day with you, buddy. Aren’t you tired of me yet?”  
  
“Never! I love hyung.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles, and pats the top of his hair down before bidding him another goodnight.  
  
“Leave him alone, Hyun-ah! You’re annoying him,” says Joohyun from her side of the room, legs crossed on her bed with a book in her lap.  
  
“You need to sleep too, Joohyun.”  
  
She glances up at him with betrayed eyes. “I’m older!” she protests.  
  
“You still need to sleep,” Kyungsoo says. She frowns before grumbling and sliding her book under her bed, climbing into her covers.  
  
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?” Kyungsoo assures. “Goodnight.”  
  
After he’s sure the two kids are snuggled up in their beds, he switches off the light to their room and closes the door. Minseok seems to have just gotten home, the front door closing behind him as he hangs his coat.  
  
“Kids asleep?” he asks. Kyungsoo nods his affirmation.  
  
“Yep. Not without a fight, of course,” Kyungsoo laughs.  
  
“Thanks,” Minseok says. “There’s someone for you, by the way. I let him in, he’s at the stairs. This is the Jongin you were talking about?”  
  
Jongin. What’s he doing here?  
  
“Uh,” Kyungsoo looks for words. “I wasn’t expecting him, but - yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow?”  
  
Minseok throws him one last cordial smile and escorts Kyungsoo out back onto the landing, where they bid their goodnights, and where Kyungsoo sees Jongin standing at the front door of the building, too-big blazer adorned.  
  
“Kyungsoo!” he calls.  
  
“It’s late, Jongin, what are you doing here?”  
  
“It’s never too late to explore Venice!”  
  
“You’re kidding me,” Kyungsoo says, though there’s a smile on his face nonetheless, because Jongin is always so enthusiastic, so passionate, so ready to take on whatever is coming for him that day - or in this case, night. “Do you ever run out of energy?”  
  
“I’m just making good use of the rest of my time here,” Jongin says with a smirk. “And I want you to join me, if you will.”  
  
Kyungsoo narrows his eyes at him, dubious. There are many reasons why he should say no, the most obvious one screaming at him.  
  
“Come on, Kyungsoo,” Jongin pleads. “I haven’t seen you in three days.”  
  
“I’ve been working.” _And well, maybe avoiding you too._  
  
“And now you’re not,” Jongin grins.  
  
There’s that inexplicable pull in Kyungsoo’s chest again, gravitating towards Jongin and making it damn near impossible to deny him - especially when he is smiling at him like that, so bright, so shameless. Kyungsoo should say no, that he needs to sleep, because the closer he gets to Jongin, the more cracks in his heart there will be when all of this is eventually over and Jongin still has not remembered a thing between them - between the real them.  
  
But Kyungsoo had always been the self-indulgent kind - as a god, and now even as a mortal.  
  
So he throws Jongin a crooked smile, voice lilting to a playful tone. “Can I at least change first?”  
  
Jongin stays in the main room as Kyungsoo changes in his bathroom, throwing on jeans and a loose jacket. When he gets out, Jongin’s got his wandering eyes looking all around him, taking in the small apartment. Kyungsoo isn’t sure why this makes him nervous, pulse thrumming anxiously.   
  
He perches himself on the edge of a sturdy table, tugging on socks and shoes and trying to forget the fact that Kim Jongin is in his home.  
  
"Who's this?" Jongin asks.  
  
Kyungsoo glances back to Jongin, only to see the man holding up the familiar edges of a familiar photo.  
  
_Shit._  
  
"It looks kind of like..."  
  
"It's an old friend," Kyungsoo says. He stands quickly with his sock only half on, making his way over to Jongin. "Just someone I knew back in New York."  
  
"Wow," Jongin says, squinting closer. "Is it weird to say he looks a little like me?"  
  
Kyungsoo swallows, unsure where to take this. He wants to snatch the photo out of Jongin’s hands, but that would be suspicious, no doubt. "He does, a little, I guess. But the picture is old. And worn. I'm pretty sure it was drenched in rain at some point too."  
  
"Are you guys close?" Jongin asks, finally putting the photo back on the surface of the dresser, though his eyes still linger on it.  
  
Kyungsoo freezes, eyes fixed on the photo still. It's of him and Jongin, two lifetimes ago, on their wedding night.  
  
"We were," he says.  
  
"Were?"  
  
"It's a long story."  
  
"Ah," Jongin nods, finally dropping the subject. “You look good in a suit.” He tucks his hands back into his pocket, gaze drifting elsewhere. He wants to ask more, Kyungsoo can tell, but he’s glad he doesn’t press. Maybe Kyungsoo’s heart can stop thundering so fiercely then.  
  
“We should go if you want to see the city before the sun rises,” Kyungsoo urges.  
  
“Right!” Jongin says, grinning as if he’s just remembered. “Let’s go on a midnight adventure through Venice, my dear Kyungsoo!”  
  
And with that, Jongin takes Kyungsoo’s wrist and leads him out of his building, and Kyungsoo can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him along the way.  
  
It’s fine if he will be broken later, because Jongin makes him happy now.

 

  
  
  
**vii.**  
  
Kyungsoo lived a good life.  
  
He thinks so, at the very least. He laughed a lot, smiled plenty, loved and lost, made friends that he’d die for. He worked at the cafe for the majority of his life and had a crisis at one point about never amounting to anything, but realised in the end that the good friends he made there, and the good laughs, mattered the most. It was a good life. It was all he can ask for.  
  
He was, of course, just missing one thing.  
  
Jongin was just a thought in the back of his mind most of the time. A single thought. That’s all he amounted to in this lifetime, a flicker of a flame. It was the quiet nights in Kyungsoo’s lonesome apartment that had his mind drifting towards this man, somewhere else in the world. Kyungsoo didn’t even know if Jongin remembered him yet, if he was looking for him. Surely, if he was, they would have met by now.  
  
Now, Kyungsoo is 89 and stuck to a bed, thinking about how good this life was, and thinking about Kim Jongin and how he missed this last detail that would have made this life perfect.  
  
The home nurse asks him if he wants the radio on, but he says no, thank you, he’s perfectly fine. His thoughts are loud enough.  
  
He’s going to die soon. He knows it, the nurse knows it. Does he have any regrets?  
  
Just one.  
  
One, out of 89 years.  
  
It’s the only thing on his mind now. He can’t be bothered that he’s dying; although he is sad to leave this behind, he is ready to start anew. He had told his nieces and nephews stories of reincarnation when they were younger, and they looked at him like he was crazy. Just the uncle with the strange stories. There are entire worlds and lifetimes behind those stories.  
  
The nurse is back in his room. She knocks on his door, although she has already entered.  
  
“You have a visitor,” she says.  
  
“A visitor?” Kyungsoo says, brows raising. She nods, and steps aside so another figure may enter.  
  
He’s worn by age, but Kyungsoo knows him on sight; he’d recognise that smile and those eyes anywhere. He may be old, but Kyungsoo’s memory - especially when it comes to this man - still works like a charm. It’s like seeing an old friend, really. It’s like coming home.  
  
“Kim Jongin,” he says, lips curling into a smile.  
  
_At last._  
  
As worn as his heart is, it glows like a star in the midnight sky upon seeing Jongin, as if it’s saying - _it’s you, it’s you, I remember you._  
  
Jongin has tears in his eyes, wringing his hat in his hands as he approaches Kyungsoo. There’s a smile on his face nonetheless, because he is Jongin and who is Jongin without that smile on his face?  
  
“It’s been a while,” Kyungsoo murmurs, unable to take his eyes off of him.  
  
Jongin can only nod, teeth wearing into his bottom lip as his gaze is casted down. It feels surreal to be in the same room with him again. Kyungsoo has always felt a different sort of energy around Jongin - a strong, positive energy that naturally draws him in. Even now, nothing has changed. He still wants to be close to him, to hold his hand after it being so cold for a lifetime.  
  
Even if they say nothing, the feelings that are exchanged with their lingering glances and soft-edged smiles are enough to make Kyungsoo a happy man.  
  
“Sooyoung,” he calls for his nurse, “will you get my wheelchair for me?”  
  
“You can barely move, sir,” she says.  
  
“Please.”  
  
There’s a certain kind of urgency to his plea that has her conflicted - he can see it in her eyes. Eventually, she leaves the room, but not without a wary look of doubt. When she returns, she assists Kyungsoo into the chair slowly, letting him take her arm so that he may lower himself into his chair.  
  
It hurts, but it’s not anything he isn’t used to.  
  
* * *  
  
They end up on Kyungsoo’s porch, the nurse leaving them be.  
  
It’s nightfall now, the skies dark and the stars coming out to greet them. It’s chilly as well, but they both have been given a quilted blanket from the nurse, who had looked on warily as Kyungsoo assured her it was fine.  
  
Kyungsoo has his gaze up at the night sky when he begins speaking, quiet and thoughtful.  
  
“Do you remember what the Moon God always used to tell us?” he asks Jongin. It’s silent, aside from the hushed chirp of grasshoppers and crickets in the long grass.  
  
Jongin turns to him. He sits besides him, on Kyungsoo’s rocking chair. He seems a little stiff, a little off, Kyungsoo notices. He knows exactly what Jongin is feeling.  
  
“He told us many things,” Jongin responds. “Everything was a lesson with him.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles, softly, because he is right. “He used to say the stars the Lunar Gods crafted weren’t authentic. They were like placeholders for what would eventually be real stars. Faulty… just something pretty for the humans to gaze at when night came.”  
  
“He did always confuse me when he said that,” Jongin says. “What would be the point of Lunar Gods then?”  
  
“Look at it this way,” Kyungsoo says. “What Lunar Gods did was decorate the night sky. Real stars though… he said they were made from souls. Souls at peace. Souls who have done what they’ve needed to do and are ready to move on to take their rightful place in the sky.”  
  
Kyungsoo swallows nervously, eyes flickering across the galaxy. His gaze stops at each star he sees, wondering what kind of soul they were.  
  
“Do you think that could be us one day?”  
  
Jongin is quiet in response. He reaches over to hold Kyungsoo’s hand in his own, both of them cold to the touch.  
  
“I’m done here, Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispers suddenly, his tone less lighthearted now. “I think I am. I’ve had a good life, this time. Even if it was without you. I want this - this moment - to be my last on earth, forever. I want to live on in the sky. I don’t know if I can keep doing this, down here.” He pauses to chuckle, harsh and deprecating. “You were right. The mortals don’t have it easy. I should have listened to you then.”  
  
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Jongin says. “I’m sorry that I’ve only just remembered you. But you’re so strong, and patient, Kyungsoo. Stronger than I will ever be. You will live on.”  
  
“I don’t want to,” Kyungsoo says. “Not if you can’t remember who I am until years later.”  
  
The night is silent now, the buzz of cicadas gone. It’s dark, and all they have is the dimly lit lantern on the porch, the moon, and the taunting stars. Kyungsoo feels empty inside, and the only thing holding him up is knowing that Jongin is by his side.  
  
"Do you think all mortals were once cosmic beings like us who were reborn and they just... forgot as time went on?" Kyungsoo asks.  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"I don't know," he mumbles. "I'm just afraid."  
  
"Don't be," Jongin says. "I'm here now, aren't I?"  
  
"You are," Kyungsoo says, nodding and forcing a smile. "I'm happy you are."  
  
Jongin moves to take both of Kyungsoo’s hands in his own now, looking down. He’s as beautiful as ever, Kyungsoo thinks, even if the years have worn him down as well.  
  
“We thought we were strong enough for this,” Jongin says, more of an ironic huff than anything. “We were arrogant gods who could never dream of what loss felt like. We treated mortality like a game and nothing more. Humans are weak, after all, aren’t they? They don’t know power like we do, they don’t know stars and universes like we do, they don’t have the strength we once had. But we… we didn’t have the hearts to understand them either. And we’re learning the hard way now, aren’t we?”  
  
Kyungsoo swallows, his heart thrumming quietly in his chest. He can feel its pulse, and he’s sure that isn’t a good thing.  
  
“I don’t want to lose you, Kyungsoo,” Jongin says. “I don’t want to play this game anymore. I don’t want to have to look for you, because I want you by my side forever. I should have known that then, but now I feel as if I’m too late.”  
  
Kyungsoo shakes his head immediately after. “You can never be too late, Jongin. You’re right. You’re here, and that’s all I need.”  
  
“What happens then,” Jongin says, “in the future? It’s fading, Kyungsoo. It’s happening. I told you I’d never forget and now I…”  
  
“These are the last few moments of my life, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. “This life, anyway. I wouldn’t want to spend it talking about the next.”  
  
Jongin’s lip twitches slightly before he manages a bittersweet smile. He brings Kyungsoo’s hand up to place a gentle peck on his fingers, his eyes shining. “So tell me about you, then,” he says. “Tell me all about this Kyungsoo and what you’ve been doing without me.”  
  
Kyungsoo feels tears track down his cheeks, but manages a smile too, cracked and broken and utterly torn, but nonetheless, that glow in his heart is still there.  
  
“I was born to a single mother in Bucheon...” he starts. “She was kind to me, and everyone we knew. Because of her, I was a good kid.”  
  
“I bet,” Jongin laughs, pressing Kyungsoo’s hand against his mouth.  
  
Kyungsoo’s smile deepens, the curl in his heart twisting.  
  
“I was only six when I remembered a boy named Jongin,” he says, “and how I needed to find him as soon as possible.”  
  
“83 years later,” Jongin says. “Here I am.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles.  
  
Here he is.

 

  
  
  
**ix. present**  
  
The photo doesn’t look like it belongs there.  
  
And it doesn’t. Not really. That photo belongs to a different Kyungsoo, to a different Jongin, to a different lifetime.  
  
It’s tucked into the frame of the photo of Kyungsoo and Yifan, and Kyungsoo isn’t sure what to do with it anymore. It doesn’t feel right to throw it away, like that would be an injustice to the past. He doesn’t feel right keeping it either, because that part of his time on earth is over. He should have just left it be.  
  
For now, he pulls the small polaroid out of the frame and throws it into the top drawer, where he cannot see it and where it cannot taunt him. Even still, his hands are shaky as he does so, and they still shake as he sits on his bed.  
  
The sun is just about to rise now. It’s dawn. Kyungsoo’s spent all night with Jongin, out on his adventure through midnight Venice, as he had called it.  
  
He’s getting in too deep. He knows. The way Jongin smiled and laughed with him tonight, the way they… held hands as Jongin led Kyungsoo for once, as they lost themselves in the world of Venice nightlife. The sad thing is, when Kyungsoo is living it, he doesn’t think about it at all. Now that he is home, and alone, having said goodbye to Jongin ten minutes ago with a reluctant smile, all he can think of is how he is getting in too deep again.  
  
He isn’t strong enough for this.  
  
Jongin makes him happy, but Kyungsoo’s already been with Jongin in a lifetime where he didn’t remember him, and that was torture enough. There’s no telling this time whether he will remember at all, and that mere fact is enough to have Kyungsoo shrink in on himself in fear.  
  
Why is he doing this to himself?  
  
He can’t resist, is all. When Jongin is here, he pulls Kyungsoo in like gravity, like it had always been, like it is a rule of the universe. Kyungsoo tries to fight it, but with a simple smile from the other boy, he loses all resolve and gives in to indulgence.  
  
He shuts the curtains, and hopes to get some sleep before Sehun and Joohyun come wake him up.  
  
* * *  
  
It’s just after one in the afternoon now, and after spending lunch with Minseok and the family, Kyungsoo takes his daily walk. He needs to clear his mind. Maybe distract himself.  
  
It’s bright today, the sun high in the sky as it relentlessly beats down on the land. There are less crowds as well, which is actually an inconvenience today, since Kyungsoo was hoping he’d be able to get swept up in the mass of tourists. That way, his mind would be more focused on street performances rather than a boy who can’t remember who he is.  
  
Even if the amount of tourists has doubled over the years Kyungsoo has no doubt that he loves this place. Still does. It has heart, and history, and it really is beautiful beyond the graffitied walls. Though, perhaps that’s part of its charm.  
  
"Kyungsoo?"  
  
A feminine voice, bright and clear, rings out behind him. Kyungsoo turns - and sees someone who immediately takes him back, who he hasn’t seen for years - the last being at a temple in the sky.  
  
“Seungwan?”  
  
She blinks, before smiling brightly upon fully recognising Kyungsoo. It’s strange, to see her here decked out in a casual jean jacket and shorts, a great contrast to the silk she wore when they were cosmic beings.  
  
"Oh my gosh!" she exclaims, eyes widening. "I wasn't sure if it was you at first, but I mean... who else could it be?"  
  
"It's me," Kyungsoo laughs. "Small world."  
  
"Well, when we've lived in the sky, of course the earth below is bound to be smaller," she says. Then she's looking around, as if looking for something. "Is Jongin with you as well?"  
  
"Not exactly," Kyungsoo says. "He is, but, well... it's a long story."  
  
Seungwan's face falls in realisation, but then she's smiling - somewhat sympathetic and hopeful. That was always how she'd been, a beacon of hope for when everything else seemed hopeless.  
  
She smiles again, clearly sensing that Kyungsoo has a story to tell. "Coffee, on me?"  
  
* * *  
  
"I love it here," she says. "Earth, I mean. I don't regret a thing. It was so stuffy up there in the clouds, I feel as if I couldn’t breathe. You understand, don’t you?"  
  
She looks at Kyungsoo expectantly, chewing on her blueberry bagel.  
  
“I do,” Kyungsoo chuckles.  
  
“I’m glad you’ve made your way down here as well, you know. As much as I love it here, I do feel alone sometimes… After all, it’s not as if the people in your past lives move on to new ones with you. You’ve got to make do with a whole new family, new friends… it can be a bit burdening.” She smiles at Kyungsoo, warmly. “So I’m very glad to see a familiar face.”  
  
“I am too,” Kyungsoo assures with a returning smile, sipping meekly at his coffee. “What brings you to Venice?”  
  
“Scouting,” she says. “I’m here with my best friend, who also happens to be my client.”  
  
“Client?”  
  
“I’m a wedding planner,” she says, and it’s obvious she’s proud. “We’re here to look for locations for her destination wedding.”  
  
Kyungsoo hates how his mind immediately flashes images of him and Jongin. Him and Jongin at the Gesuati church, surrounded by their friends, wine in hands, dancing to the band that costed them a fortune, but it didn’t matter, because they were willing to splurge on anything if it meant a beautiful wedding.  
  
“Ah,” Kyungsoo says, nodding in understanding as he tries to shake these images away. “Venice is a very romantic place. A good choice.”  
  
“She has a very high standard,” Seungwan chuckles. “What about you, Kyungsoo?”  
  
“Just personal interests,” Kyungsoo says, brushing it off as subtly as he can. “And work.”  
  
Seungwan seems to detect the lack of enthusiasm in such a topic of conversation, as she nods slowly.  
  
“Jongin…” she starts. “You said he was here. But not exactly. If you don’t mind...what did you mean? If I recall correctly, you two were inseparable.”  
  
Kyungsoo was afraid of this. Even when he agreed to coffee, he had hoped she wouldn’t bring it up. Then again, she’s been here longer than either of them. Perhaps she can provide some answers, but more importantly, support and reassurance.  
  
“He’s here…” he begins slow, “but he doesn’t remember a thing. Not who I am, not who we used to be, not our other lifetimes together. I have no place in his memory. To him now, I am just someone he met in Venice on his journey abroad.”  
  
Seungwan’s face falls in sympathy, frowning as she makes sense of Kyungsoo’s words. “He… he forgot you, over the years. Over the lifetimes.”  
  
The mere fact that Kyungsoo drops his head seems to be response enough for Seungwan.  
  
"I'm sorry," she says. "It must be hard for you.”  
  
"You've been here longer than we have," Kyungsoo says. "And you remember everything? How is that?"  
  
Seungwan offers him a patient smile and a softened expression, quiet for a moment before she’s suddenly reaching into her bag and pulling out a pen.  
  
“Give me your hand,” she says, holding her palm out on the surface of the table. Kyungsoo, confused, does as she asks, placing his hand in hers.  
  
She flips it over so that his palm is facing up, and begins to scribble on his palm with the pen. Kyungsoo looks closer to see that she’s drawing a small doodle of a star.  
  
“This is you,” she says, gesturing to the star. She draws another one just like it, besides the first star. “And this is Jongin. And this-” she makes a line down the middle, which abruptly separates the two stars, “-is the universe, keeping you two apart. A bitch, am I right?”  
  
Kyungsoo blinks at her, waiting for her to go on.  
  
“But I’ll tell you a little secret, Kyungsoo. There’s almost always a loophole. A gateway. A chink in the armour.” With that, she draws a little circle on the universe line. “You and Jongin just have to be there at the same time.”  
  
“But we are,” Kyungsoo says, frowning. “We’re both here, in this city at the same time, aren’t we?”  
  
Seungwan chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s not necessarily a physical state of being in a place at the same time, Kyungsoo. This city is not necessarily your gateway. I sense that over the years and many lives, Jongin’s memory of you began fading because, well… we get lost, sometimes. It doesn’t mean he fell out of love with you, it’s just the impact that mortality has on us. Some of us deal differently, that’s all. Some of us get lost along the way. Jongin’s just lost for a little while.”  
  
“He had always been like that,” Kyungsoo says, under his breath. “A dreamer. The kind of soul to wander.”  
  
Seungwan smiles, sympathetic. Her eyes soften. “You know what I say? All I say is that it takes patience. Time will do its thing. It might not be in this life but he will come back to you, and he will waver again, and he’ll come back; it’s just how it works.”  
  
_It’s just how it works._ Kyungsoo wants to whine at the unfairness, wants to take the universe by its shoulders, shake her, and tell her to bring Jongin back to him. In many ways, he thinks having Jongin here, unable to remember who he is, is much more torturous than being separated from him.  
  
“So when he does find his way...” Seungwan continues, now drawing arrows from the two stars so that they point towards each other.  
  
“We will meet again,” Kyungsoo finishes for her, his gaze fixed on the two stars.  
  
She hums, smiling a bit as she curls Kyungsoo’s fingers back into his palm. “I suppose that’s why they call it star-crossed.”  
  
* * *  
  
In truth, Kyungsoo was doing perfectly fine before he met Jongin, in this life.  
  
He was moving on. Then, of course, Jongin had to come along once again, and throw Kyungsoo off.  
  
It’s his own fault, he knows. He allows himself to get sucked back into this, allows himself to indulge in Jongin’s presence even if it means more heartbreak for him later. He truly never learns.  
  
He thinks back to what Seungwan said.  
  
That Jongin is lost, and he will find his way eventually.  
  
Kyungsoo wonders when, exactly. He isn’t sure if he can do this, anymore. He isn’t sure if he can wait anymore, only to realise he’s been waiting for nothing.  
  
So when Minseok knocks on his apartment door with news, and an offer, who is Kyungsoo to refuse?  
  
* * *  
  
It’s strange, to see how barren his room is once he’s packed mostly everything up. He admits. He will miss it here. There is a genuine feeling of home in this building, one that he’s built with Minseok and his family.  
  
He knows he should call Jongin and tell him the news lest he come looking for him, but he seems to be putting that off for as long as he can. Perhaps he is so much of a coward that he will wait until he lands back in America to call Jongin and let him know. Fortunately for him, he is not that much of an asshole.  
  
Even still, with all of his clothes packed up and the handle of his suitcase in his hand, he stares blankly at his phone, trying to find the courage to end it all. Something in him - that infuriating part of him that will cling onto whatever past he has with Jongin - is telling him that he doesn’t want to do this. Kyungsoo himself says he needs to.  
  
So just as he turns his phone on and scrolls down to Jongin’s name in his contact list, there’s a knock at his door, and really, he just expects it to be Minseok or Heeyeon asking if he is ready.  
  
Instead, outside of his door is Jongin himself, lifting his head to meet Kyungsoo with confused eyes.  
  
“You’re here,” Jongin says. “You haven’t answered my texts.”  
  
“I know,” Kyungsoo says, swallowing nervously. If he thought he was not prepared for a phone call, he is definitely not ready for a face-to-face conversation.  
  
Jongin peers over Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Your apartment is empty? Are you… moving?”  
  
Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and wills his heart to steady, before speaking again. “Come in, Jongin. I have to talk to you.”  
  
Jongin’s face falls at the resigned tone in Kyungsoo’s words, but he does as told, walking past Kyungsoo into the half-empty apartment.  
  
Get it out in the open, Kyungsoo thinks. Quick and painless. Like ripping off a bandaid.  
  
"I don't think we should do this anymore."  
  
Jongin merely blinks at him, brows furrowing.  
  
"What… what do you mean by that?" he asks after a brief period of silence, his voice low and unsure.  
  
"I mean, well - this... I mean, I don't think this is a smart idea. You and I - being friends."  
  
There’s hurt in his expression almost immediately, though it’s hard to see behind the initial shock. Jongin gapes, mouth open and blinking in confusion at Kyungsoo. It’s as if he’s looking for words, glancing away, running a hand through his hair.  
  
“I, uh… Okay... Do you… do you mind telling me why?”  
  
There are so many reasons why, but what hurts the most is that Kyungsoo cannot tell Jongin a single one. Not an honest one, anyway. Not the truth.  
  
“I think it’s just best for us,” Kyungsoo murmurs. “Best for you.”  
  
“And you know what’s best for me, do you?”  
  
Kyungsoo ignores the way Jongin’s tone rises, ignores the flames in his chest. "Heeyeon and Minseok will be moving back to New York soon, and they want me to go with them, and you need to go back home and deal with your life properly."  
  
“Wow,” Jongin says, adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re saying this to me right now.”  
  
Kyungsoo stands his ground, tells himself not to get too caught up in how emotional Jongin sounds. Even if Jongin walks away from this room thinking he is an asshole, Kyungsoo has to do what he has to do.  
  
“We both know this was only a way for you to run away from your problems, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says.  
  
“Or to fix them,” Jongin says. “I don’t know why, but I’ve felt so - so empty my whole life, like I’m constantly missing something. Like there’s something… bigger for me out here? Better for me? I don’t belong back there, I don’t. I don’t feel right there. I feel right here.”  
  
Kyungsoo bites his tongue. “That’s the dreamer in you talking, Jongin. You need to ground yourself, sometimes. Remember that you’re more than this.”  
  
“That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Jongin groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This isn’t about some wanderlust shit, or about some dream to travel the world. It’s about trying to feel whole for once, trying to find whatever it is I’m missing because fuck, I feel like - like whatever is back home - that’s not me. That’s not _for me_ , that’s some illusion that-”  
  
“The only illusion is here, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. “The one you created, in this wonderful, fantastic fucking city you love so much. Why do you want to stay here? The streets are littered, there’s tourists everywhere, it’s crowded as hell - it’s nothing like it used to be.”  
  
"Is it crazy of me to say that I feel drawn here because of you?” Jongin blurts, looking regretful afterwards. But he keeps going. Pushes on. “Like - fuck, Kyungsoo, I know we've only known each other for a couple of weeks but I feel like I've known you for the longest time and that - that something was telling me to come here to meet you. That all this time, I've been drawn here to meet you. The moment I met you, I feel like that is what I have been missing. Is that crazy of me to say? It is, right? I'm sorry, but at the same time... I'm not. Because - I don't know, I feel like it's right. I feel like I'm right. Like this is..." he pauses to chuckle, ironic and deprecating and completely in disbelief, "...like this is meant to be."  
  
Kyungsoo forces down the knot that is forming in his throat.  
  
"So what if it is?" Kyungsoo mutters, because he knows Jongin isn’t out of his mind. "You would abandon your life, your future for some guy you met abroad and known for three weeks just because you felt like it was _meant to be?_ "  
  
"I am not saying that," Jongin defends. "I just feel like there's something bigger going on here, that's all. And I don't want to miss out on that. I'm so confused, Kyungsoo, I feel like - I feel like I'm missing something here. Why do you pull away from me all the time?"  
  
"I hardly know you, Jongin!"  
  
"But that's not true, is it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Jongin blinks. "I don't know, okay. You can call me fucking insane, if you want, I just cannot shake this feeling that we... we're... I don't know. Yeah. I get it. I hear myself. I do sound fucking insane. Maybe you're right. Maybe I should stop living in my bubble and go back to real life and face it like a grown-up instead of trying to cling onto whatever dream is here with you. There goes Jongin again, living on his fucking cloud in the sky and never knowing when to ground himself. Sorry. God. I do sound fucking insane."  
  
"You don't, Jongin," Kyungsoo says, lowly. He wants to say you're right. He wants to grab Jongin by the shoulders and shake him and tell him that he is feeling all of this for a reason.  
  
"I'm sorry," Jongin whispers. "I should go."  
  
“Jongin, hold on,” Kyungsoo says.  
  
“No, no - you’re right. I should grow up and deal with my problems like an adult instead of trying to run away from them, trying to live out this fairy tale I’ve created.”  
  
“It’s... “ _not a fairy tale_ , Kyungsoo completes in his head, but the fear that’s taken a hold of his heart is too strong.  
  
“I’ll go,” Jongin says. “I’m sorry… I guess, for fucking things up, for meeting you.”  
  
When Kyungsoo reaches out for him, Jongin only pulls away and brushes past him, his face stone hard and expression unreadable. The door closes behind him with a silence that echoes throughout the apartment, and suddenly - just as he had been his entire life - Kyungsoo is alone.  
  
This it it, he thinks. They’re done here.  
  
  
  
  
  
**viii.**  
  
The effect of seeing someone you love with another person is mind-numbing. It stops the heart and it makes one feel like the air has been punched out of you, lost for breath and struggling for a grip on reality.  
  
This is when Kyungsoo decides he's done playing this game.  
  
Jongin's got his arms around one of their schoolmates. Some senior by the name of Taemin. His chin is on his shoulder, and they laugh and giggle into each other, all the meanwhile sneaking kisses in between.  
  
What hurts, is that Kyungsoo didn't have to look for Jongin this time around. Jongin was already around, only with someone else, as if fate was telling him - here, look at what you cannot have.  
  
But this is just high school, and Kyungsoo has years more before Jongin remembers. At least, he hopes.  
  
So he distracts himself for the time being. Gets himself caught up in his own life. He studies hard, lands a place in a decent university, and tries to forget about Kim Jongin, who hasn't spared a word for him the entire time they've spent together in school. Kyungsoo hasn't tried either. It's much too painful. Jongin is plenty busy, anyway.  
  
He cannot hold this grudge against him.  
  
Kyungsoo graduates, and he waits.  
  
Kyungsoo lands himself in medical school for another eight years, and waits.  
  
And - nothing. Not a peep from Kim Jongin.  
  
The worst possible scenarios cross Kyungsoo's mind some nights, when it's darker than usual and his bed is much too big for himself.  
  
Jongin remembers, but doesn't bother to look for Kyungsoo or make contact with him again.  
  
Jongin has yet to remember, and is left completely oblivious to the fact that Kyungsoo feels wretched every single night just remembering him. It hurts, more than anything, because whereas Kyungsoo has entire worlds and stories and thousands of memories with this man he loves with his whole being, to Jongin, he is simply a boy he knew in his youth.  
  
To see the only man you’ve ever loved and who’s ever loved you with someone else - it does things. After a while, Kyungsoo stops feeling anything at all. His chest is hollow, his feelings numbed. Even if he’s lived without Jongin in his past lifetimes, this is so much more cruel.  
  
Soon enough, a letter comes in the mail - an invitation.  
  
A reunion.  
  
A chance, Kyungsoo figures, to see if things have changed.  
  
* * *  
  
The place is grander than Kyungsoo expected, like a low-funded banquet hall. The faces he sees are all familiar, memories of a dozen years before. Everyone looks to be well off, if their dresses and suits are to say anything about them.  
  
“Do Kyungsoo!”  
  
An old friend comes up, eyes bright and smile wide. Kyungsoo’s heart twinges, because it’s one of those cases where they tried to keep up their friendship all throughout moving away and attending different universities, but it fell through, the two growing apart.  
  
“Hyunsik?” he says, and tries to return the smile.  
  
“Oh my god, it’s been way too long,” Hyungsik says, clapping Kyungsoo on the back as he pulls him in for a hug.  
  
Kyungsoo doesn’t have to force the smile anymore, because he’s happy, and he misses Hyungsik, and regrets that they ever even grew apart at all. He’ll make more of an effort to keep in touch with him.  
  
“How are you?” Kyungsoo asks.  
  
“Ah, I’m doing great! But you - I heard you were a physician?”  
  
And with that, Kyungsoo falls into easy conversation with his old friend, just like old times. Hyunsik hasn’t changed much, although his jokes are more mature and his smile is a little worn. They talk about everything, from their jobs, to where they’re living now, and even their love lives.  
  
“My last serious relationship was about...a year ago? After she broke up with me, I’ve kind of just been laying low and focusing on my job.”  
  
Kyungsoo nods as Hyunsik speaks, afraid he has nothing to offer on this particular topic of conversation.  
  
“I saw Jung Soojung earlier though, and well, she’s certainly making me rethink that,” Hyunsik says with a chuckle. “Maybe I’ll go find her after this and see what she’s been up to.”  
  
Kyungsoo laughs, just to entertain him. “Good luck, but I think she’s with someone.”  
  
Hyunsik frowns at this, taking a swig of champagne from his glass. “Ah, well, I don’t think she liked me much in high school anyway. Hey, speaking of childish high school crushes, have you seen Kim Jongin? The man is looking amazing. I saw him and I thought of you. Don’t have a crush on him still, do you?”  
  
Kyungsoo searches for the proper words. “I never had a crush on him.”  
  
Hyunsik outright laughs. “Still denying it, I see! You haven’t changed a bit. Can’t fool me, Kyungsoo. The way you used to look at him in class - that was some downright pining right there. I don’t blame you, especially now. He is handsome and successful. Maybe you should find him, and you know-” he pauses to wink and nudge at Kyungsoo, “-reconnect.”  
  
Well, he’s only been trying to do that since he was sixteen.  
  
Kyungsoo brushes him off. “What’s there to reconnect? We hardly spoke in high school.”  
  
“Then here’s your chance,” Hyunsik says, now looking over Kyungsoo’s shoulder and trying to subtly point to something.  
  
As Kyungsoo turns, he realises that Hyunsik is pointing to an older, more mature version of Jongin - who is decked out in a blazer and an ear-to-ear grin as he makes conversation with one of their old classmates.  
  
Kyungsoo’s heart stops, or it feels like it does, and his mouth is suddenly dry, and he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing because he was not prepared for this, as much as he thought he was.  
  
“And you say you never had a crush on him,” Hyunsik remarks smugly, clearly watching Kyungsoo’s reaction.  
  
He shakes himself out of his stupor. “It’s a lot more complicated than that,” Kyungsoo says truthfully.  
  
“C’mon, Kyungsoo, talk to him! Look, he’s alone now. Do you need a wingman?”  
  
“No,” Kyungsoo says, glaring at Hyunsik. “Don’t- don’t say anything to him. I’ll talk to him.”  
  
Because really, Kyungsoo’s desire to know if Jongin remembers him or not ultimately defeats the growing anxiety that churns in his gut.  
  
Hyunsik makes a little ’fighting!’ motion with his fist in encouragement, and Kyungsoo throws him a shaky, unsure smile as he begins to make his way over to where Jongin now stands alone, hand in his pocket and the other holding his glass of champagne. His heart thunders the entire way, and it feels like this is the longest walk he’s ever taken.  
  
"Kim Jongin," Kyungsoo greets, doing his best impersonation of a happy and successful physician.  
  
"Ah!" Jongin exclaims, eyes bursting open and pointer finger directed at Kyungsoo. His eyes flash with familiarity, but it’s not the kind that Kyungsoo is hoping for.  
  
He narrows his eyes after then, presumably searching for a name. His eyes - empty. His reaction - expected, and Kyungsoo - becoming less and less stable as each second ticks on.  
  
"Do Kyungsoo," he says finally, with a grin, and Kyungsoo forces one for show.  
  
"That's right,” he says, lowly.  
  
"How are you? How has adulthood treated you?"  
  
“Well enough,” Kyungsoo says with a modest chuckle. He tries not to sound too broken.  
  
“Humble, hm? I heard you were a fancy bigshot doctor now. More than well, I think,” Jongin says.  
  
“Ah, it’s nothing. But what about you?”  
  
“Teaching at the university. Oh, and-” he raises his hand to show a shiny new ring on his finger.  
  
Kyungsoo stares. “Oh.”  
  
“Engaged,” Jongin grins, and his eyes are sparkling like the champagne in his hand.  
  
“That’s amazing,” Kyungsoo says. He sounds defeated, even to his own ears.  
  
“I know. He’s my everything. I can’t wait,” Jongin smiles fondly at the ring. “Wouldn’t happen to know any good honeymoon places, would you?” He laughs, almost shy.  
  
Kyungsoo feels something prickling at his eyes. Feels a tightness in his chest, feels his heart swell uncomfortably. The fact that Jongin is so happy with this person - it’s obvious. He doesn’t remember anything, still. Will he, ever?  
  
It doesn’t matter. Kyungsoo is done waiting. Jongin is happy, and that’s what matters, and Kyungsoo will not take that from him for his own selfish reasons.  
  
He wants nothing more than to drop to his knees and cry.  
  
Instead, he smiles at Jongin, strained and tight and completely unstable.  
  
“I heard Venice is lovely,” he says. “I think you might like it.”  
  
Jongin brightens. “Is it really? Well, we’ll certainly have to consider it.”  
  
After that, they make more small talk, but it’s over meaningless things, and anyway, Kyungsoo isn’t paying much attention. It’s killing him to even stand in front of Jongin, so after a minute or two, he makes some excuse that Hyunsik is waiting for him.  
  
“Well?” Hyunsik asks when Kyungsoo returns to him. “How did it go?”  
  
“He’s engaged,” Kyungsoo murmurs, and hands his own empty glass to Hyunsik. “I’m going home, now, if you don’t mind.”  
  
“Woah, woah,” Hyunsik says as Kyungsoo begins to walk away. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea, Kyungsoo! All these single people here! You can’t let one guy get you down.”  
  
“I told you, Hyunsik,” Kyungsoo says, pausing to turn back. “It’s more complicated that that. I’m going home, I’m sorry. I’ll keep in touch.”  
  
Confusion flashes across Hyunsik’s face, but eventually, he nods in understanding, leaving Kyungsoo free to escape this hellhole.  
  
* * *  
  
That night, as Kyungsoo enters his dark and empty apartment, he shrugs off his blazer and lets it drop to the floor, uncaring. He leaves it dark, only bothering to turn on the one lamp in his own bedroom.  
  
He seats himself on his bed, pausing for a moment to reflect. The absolute emptiness in Jongin’s eyes was heartbreaking to witness, and yet it keeps replaying in Kyungsoo’s head over and over again. Their entire conversation plays over in his head, and Kyungsoo tells himself to stop, that it isn’t worth lingering. He’s gone this long without Jongin, but somehow, the thought that Jongin couldn’t remember him was much worse than being apart from him. He’s there, so close, and yet Kyungsoo still couldn’t have him.  
  
It hurts.  
  
There are so many memories with that man, built over so many lifetimes, and Jongin couldn’t recall a single one.  
  
The emotions he felt earlier that night begin to stir again, but this time, Kyungsoo is alone. So he drops his head into his hands and lets himself cry. The only noise in his empty apartment is the soft, muffled rack of sobs.  
  
The moon is high when he quietens, its light streaming into his room. With it, Kyungsoo decides this is it. The last night he will linger, the last time he will try, because frankly, this all hurts too much for him to be able to bear. He needs to move on.  
  
This is it, then? Is this the end, officially, of him and Jongin? He does not see Jongin remembering him any time in the foreseeable future, and this breaks his heart the most.  
  
And Kyungsoo thinks back to all those years ago, back to their temple in the sky. It doesn’t seem real, like that is just a story or a dream that Kyungsoo has been clinging to. But it is real, and so were the words spoken that day. How smug Kyungsoo had been, how foolish he was to think they can do this. He could never have imagined that heartbreak felt like this.  
  
Jongin was right. The mortals have strong hearts. But Kyungsoo did not start out as a mortal, and his heart is weak.  
  
Now, he digs into nightstand drawer, pulling out files from work and throwing them aside to find what he is really looking for. And there, beneath everything, is a discarded, forgotten photo of him and Jongin in one of their past lifetimes - the one where they had married at twenty six and Jongin hadn’t remembered him until ten years after.  
  
This photo was taken on their wedding night. It was decades ago, and yet, Kyungsoo can remember the night so clearly.  
  
They had a band. Kyungsoo and Jongin danced together on the stage, under the fairy lights. There had been a faulty light amongst them, irritating Kyungsoo with the way it flickered on and off.  
  
It was the most magical night of his time on earth, and looking at the photo again has him reliving it.  
  
He grabs the pen on the nightstand and flips the photo over to the back, his chest curling as he realises this is truly it; their end.  
  
So he writes Jongin one last message, even if he will never see it.  
  
A goodbye message.  


 

  
  
**ix. present**  
  
It’s funny, how you can find yourself in the same place you were three weeks ago, but feeling as if you’re an entirely different person.  
  
This is the last time he’ll come here, he’s sure of it. He’ll make it so. This is the last time he’ll linger, the last time he’ll try to cling onto something he already knows is lost. He was pathetic to try and do so in the first place. He was weak.  
  
Of course, he’s told himself this many times already. _Give up, Kyungsoo. It’s not happening, Kyungsoo. It’s not worth it, Kyungsoo. It hurts too much, Kyungsoo._ _  
_  
And in the end, he does somehow always end up going back. Hell, maybe he will again in the future. Kyungsoo knows himself too well by now.  
  
But for now - in this lifetime - he is done. His heart hurts too much. Heeyeon and the family are waiting for him at the airport. It’s time he leaves Venice, and Jongin, behind - for real.  
  
* * *  
  
_You have 19 new messages._  
  
Jongin does not mean to worry Chanyeol and Sehun, but he hopes they understand that he needs this time alone. Just a few hours to clear his mind.  
  
Perhaps he had overshared with Kyungsoo every single little thought, and he had scared him off. After all, the things he had spouted were ridiculous. _Meant to be,_ and _fated_ , and _I feel like I know you._  
  
Jongin scoffs. It’s no wonder Kyungsoo ran from him. The things he said sounded completely and utterly ridiculous, and maybe a tad desperate.  
  
Even still, he cannot shake these feelings.  
  
He doesn’t know why he feels it’s right. He just does. It doesn’t make sense, not at all - not logically anyway. But Jongin had always been the type to follow his heart, as painfully cheesy as that sounds.  
  
Perhaps he is just ridiculously desperate.  
  
Perhaps he just let himself get caught up in the magic of Venice, in the romantic atmosphere. Perhaps he’s fallen in too deep with this fantasy world he’s created, an escape for awaits him back home. Reality.  
  
After a while of aimlessly walking, Jongin finally looks up and around him and realises with a start - that he does not recognise his surroundings. He’s never seen that cafe, nor has he seen that graffiti before, and the pavement under his feet is unfamiliar.  
  
He’s lost.  
  
And he doesn’t know how to get back.  
  
His heart thunders, and he begins to circle his way around the pathways, frantically looking for something familiar. Ironic, he scoffs, that the one time he comes out here without Kyungsoo, he becomes lost immediately. Shows how useless he is, really, when it comes down to it.  
  
The paths just seem to become more and more unfamiliar, and eventually, the crowds become lesser too, leaving Jongin alone with just a few travellers as he tries to find his way around. It’s scary, to be on his own in a place he does not recognise, but he is determined to find his way back. It only seems like he is getting deeper into this narrow backways, deeper into losing himself even further in this city of mystery.  
  
The alleyways are narrow, and he’s never quite felt as unwelcome in Venice as he does now. It’s like the brick buildings are closing in on him, and he’s finding it hard to breathe. He feels, strangely, like every person he passes by mocks him, even if logically, he knows that isn’t the case. He trails his hand along the grainy walls of the buildings as he rushes through the paths, searching for something, _anything,_ that can guide him back to the Venice he knows.  
  
_Oh,_ he thinks, _that looks familiar._ _  
_ _  
_ It’s the cafe he and Kyungsoo first went to after they met, and after the latter agreed to be his guide. Jongin pauses and imagines him and Kyungsoo there, sitting at that exact table. It was easier then, when he hadn’t made things so complicated.  
  
As he walks more, he realises with a jolt that he is near Kyungsoo’s apartment.  
  
He’s led himself here, to Kyungsoo’s apartment, of all places. He huffs again, in irony. Perhaps he isn’t as insane as he thought.  
  
The door is unlocked, so he lets himself in and marches to Kyungsoo’s apartment, knocking on it feebly. Will the man kick him out upon seeing him? It doesn’t matter. Jongin needs to at least try to explain himself, explain the confusing thoughts that flutter around his mind.  
  
“Kyungsoo?” he calls through the door, but there is no response. He tests it, and sees that this door is unlocked as well. Perhaps he is too late, and Kyungsoo is already gone.  
  
The place is barren, nothing but the kitchen, the dresser, the mirror, and the bland bed in the centre of it all. Jongin’s heart aches at the sight.  
  
It’s done, it’s happened, it’s over. There’s no more hope for them, whatever they were.  
  
He stands in the middle of the empty apartment and looks it up and down, tries to remember how it looked when Kyungsoo was still here.  
  
That’s when he sees the photo on the nightstand.  
  
It’s the same photo he saw the first time he was here; the one with the strange man that looked like himself, the man that Kyungsoo had said was his old friend from New York. Jongin approaches it, staring at it warily before deciding to pick it up and inspect it closer.  
  
Both of the men are in suits, as Jongin had noticed the first time. The smiles on their faces are grand, their eyes folded into little crescent moons, and it’s obvious they’re happy. Perhaps the happiest they’ve ever felt in their life. Jongin himself feels happy for them just by looking at the photo.  
  
He flips it over. He doesn’t know why. He just feels as if something was telling him to.  
  
There, on the back, is messy, scrawled handwriting written in black ink.  
  
But Jongin can read it all the same.  
  
_I’ll always find my way back to you in the end, my little paradox._  
  
Jongin narrows his eyes.  
  
His heart hurts, for some reason, tight against his chest, painful and pounding much too hard.  
  
_I hope you will too._  
  
His eyes flick back up.  
  
_My little paradox._  
  
There’s a knot in his throat. He flips the photo over again.  
  
And he feels his heart drop to his gut, because now, for some reason, he does not see _an old friend from New York._  
  
He sees himself.  
  
He sees himself, and Kyungsoo, the night they got married.  
  
They have never married, though. Have they? Jongin would surely remember. Why then, is this memory so clear in his head? Why is this photo suddenly telling him that yes, this is in fact him, and Kyungsoo, the night they were married?  
  
Their hands are intertwined in the picture. Jongin hadn’t noticed that before.  
  
Heart beating in a frenzy, he flips the photo over once more.  
  
_Little paradox._  
  
_Find my way to you._  
  
Flips it again.  
  
One more time.  
  
They’re in suits, the both of them. There’s a figure in the background.  
  
_Yixing?_  
  
Who is Yixing?  
  
_”I’m so happy for you guys! It’s like, finally, you know? You two make me believe in love.”_  
  
Jongin’s breathing gets heavier by the second because there are too many rushing, pounding thoughts running through his mind, too many questions, too many memories.  
  
Champagne, chandelier over their heads, a band that played all their favourite songs. There was a string of fairy lights over the stage where he and Kyungsoo danced. There was a little bulb amongst them, faulty and dimmed.  
  
And this time, he drops to his knees when he sees the photo again, because it’s as if every time he looks at if, he’s trying to grasp onto something that keeps escaping him, something that has his chest about to burst and tears welling in his eyes because how can this be how can this be how can this be.  
  
His head is pounding, and he presses his palm tight against his temple as he _tries tries tries_ to catch onto whatever it is that is floating in front of him, in his reach but still too far to grab.  
  
He takes a deep breath, a cool wave rushing through him.  
  
They were married, and they were happy, and they were together.  
  
Just in another lifetime, that’s all.  
  
Jongin holds it to his chest, shutting his eyes and feeling something wet track down his cheeks. All he feels, all he knows is pain in the pit of chest, a slow tear, a blazing fire. He feels something dark swallowing him up, swallowing up his heart.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, to no one in particular.  
  
A temple in the sky. amongst the clouds.  
  
He and Kyungsoo.  
  
_“So what do you say, Jongin? Shall we play with time and destiny? Meddle with mortality?”_  
  
A game. A play? Something about rules… About Venice...  
  
Jongin shuts his eyes, pressing both his palms to his forehead.  
  
_“I say yes, Kyungsoo. Let’s find our youth in falling in love over and over again.”_  
  
His head hurts, his heart aches, he feels as if he’s falling into a dark pit.  
  
_“So like you to want to defy the laws of nature. To go against the ways of the universe. My little paradox.”_  
  
My little paradox.  
  
The words flash back at him on the back of the photograph.  
  
Jongin slumps against the wall, crying out and throwing his head into his hands. Is this what people feel when they say their entire world is crashing down on them? Why, he thinks, is this happening to him? He is not strong enough for this. He had never been.  
  
He and Kyungsoo were foolish to treat their love as a game, playing with it for years, lifetime after lifetime, hanging it at the end of a thread just to see what would happen. That hollow part of his chest begins to fill, but with _pain_ instead, and he cannot decide which is worst.  
  
Kyungsoo’s face flashes in his memory, but it isn’t the Kyungsoo of _now._ It’s the Kyungsoo that crafted beautiful stars, the Kyungsoo that couldn’t handle being away from Jongin and snuck to Venice in hopes of seeing him again, the Kyungsoo that got caught up in taking care of his bakery and his godson that he didn’t have time to think of Jongin. It is the Kyungsoo of many lives - it’s _his_ Kyungsoo.  
  
The one he promised he would never forget.  
  
A muffled sob claws its way from his throat. He buries his face in his arms and tries to slow down the onslaught of memories that rush in far too fast, all at once.  
  
“I remember you.”  
  
* * *  
  
As Jongin takes the bus to the mainland, his heart thrums quietly, but nervously, in his chest.  
  
He grips the photo in his hand, gaze flickering back to it every once in awhile. He has to suck in a deep breath every time, because it’s like he’s reliving that night all over again.  
  
Perhaps they can do it again someday. Get married. Jongin would want nothing more.  
  
He still has a pounding headache from the  memories that had mercilessly rushed in all at once earlier. There are so many that Jongin cannot even put them in order or pinpoint which happened where. He remembers being on the battlefield. He remembers a child named Jongdae, who was kind and sweet and grew up to take care of his guardians well. He remembers scoring the winning run of a baseball game and using his interview in the newspaper as a way to send a message to Kyungsoo.  
  
He remembers, painstakingly, a man named Taemin and a life without Kyungsoo.  
  
How foolish he’s been.  
  
Kyungsoo must have gone through hell and back, and Jongin had been entirely oblivious the whole time. How will he ever make it up to him?  
  
His heart throbs, far too much, and he wonders how and if they will ever be able to get past this. If this will happen again, in their next lifetime. Kyungsoo had said once before that he was done here. That his time on earth, he thought, was enough, and he was ready to move on. Do they get a choice in the matter? Or are they stuck here in repetitive lifetimes, being taught a lesson?  
  
There are too many dangerous, flurrying thoughts running around Jongin’s head, and yet he cannot shut them down. He can only close his eyes, clutch the photo harder in his hand, and hope that Kyungsoo is still willing to see him.  
  
He was right, then. Before. That there was something bigger going on.  
  
For a place that doesn’t look like it, airports have always been awfully intimate.  
  
Thousands of goodbyes have been said here. There have been reunions, separations, perhaps even proclamations of love. Jongin thinks on this as he makes his way through.  
  
The airport is crowded, and honestly, Jongin isn’t quite sure what he is doing here or where is going. He doesn’t even have a plan. He’s only running on whatever his heart tells him to do. He can only hope Kyungsoo hasn’t boarded yet. He wouldn’t know how to find him in New York.  
  
His heart thunders as he skirts around crowds, peeking over their heads in search of Kyungsoo. It’s sort of now-or-never, and the adrenaline that rushes through his veins kicks in properly for the first time, driving him to move faster through the throng of people.  
  
He remembers coming here the first time with Chanyeol and Sehun and being ready for the adventure he knew Venice would grant him. He was clueless then, and he had no clue who Kyungsoo was; here he is now, desperately searching for the man and looking at flight names to get some semblance of wherever he could be.  
  
He darts off when he gets the gate number, suddenly unbothered about the others around him and trying to drown everyone else out.  
  
And at last, he sees him.  
  
***

“Is hyung excited to go back home?” Baekhyun asks, little fingers clasped around Kyungsoo’s sole pointer finger.

Kyungsoo smiles down at him fondly. “I am,” he says. “Are you?”

Baekhyun nods in enthusiasm. “I get to see my friends again.”

There’s a tiny patter of footsteps as Joohyun jogs to catch up, catching hold of Kyungsoo’s other hand. “Me too, but I’m going to miss Venice. Will Kyungsoo oppa still come to see us?”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo says. “Nothing is changing besides the city. I’ll still be around.”

Sehun and Joohyun smile in comfort at that. They trail behind Minseok and Heeyeon, dragging along their bags of luggage and navigating their way through the airport. Kyungsoo tries not to pay attention to the couples they pass.

“Kyungsoo.”

 _Ah,_ Kyungsoo thinks. _Of course._ He was a fool to think he’d be getting away this easily.

For a second, he’s tempted to pretend he did not hear that very clear and familiar voice ringing out behind him, but as always, he cannot bring it in himself to ignore this man.

So when he turns and sees Jongin standing there in the middle of the crowded airport, he only feels irritation stir within him. Not at Jongin, but at the entire universe. It just seems to be playing with him on purpose now.  
  
The family turn to see why Kyungsoo has stopped, and Kyungsoo urges them forward without him.

“Go on,” he calls back to them. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

Sehun and Joohyun let go of Kyungsoo’s hands in reluctance and take their parents’ instead, small pouts on their faces as they walk along without him.  
  
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says now as he faces him, voice raised in confusion. “Why are you here? Are you lost?”  
  
The corners of Jongin’s lip turn up, and he’s breathing hard, as if he ran here.  
  
“Not anymore,” he says.  
  
Kyungsoo doesn’t know what he means by that, but his brows furrow and he’s shaking his head. “I don’t have time for this… My plane is boarding soon and they’re waiting for me...”  
  
“Do you remember,” Jongin interrupts, “when we were on your front porch, looking up at the stars?”  
  
“My front porch?”  
  
“You told me that you were done here,” Jongin explains. “On earth. You wanted to move on.”  
  
The look on Kyungsoo’s face only grows more concerned. “Are you alright, Jongin?”  
  
Jongin smiles. Patient. Gentle. “Better than ever, Kyungsoo.”  
  
“My apartment didn’t have a porch,” he murmurs. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“No, but your home did, two lifetimes ago. I sought you out and I found you, and you told me you were done here. You told me about the stars and how you wanted to be amongst them. And in a lifetime before that, we married in a church in Venice and danced under fairy lights. And before that, we raised a boy named Jongdae together and he grew up to be a kind, wonderful man, just like you." The smile on Jongin's face is patient and indulgent. "And even before that, we stayed in the sky and lived as gods.”  
  
There’s a brief flicker of confusion that flashes across Kyungsoo’s expression - but only briefly. It’s there for just a moment before Kyungsoo’s face falls in realisation.  
  
And then he’s blinking at Jongin in surprise.  
  
Kyungsoo recognises that look on Jongin’s face. It’s the look Jongin’s given him lifetime after lifetime when they were finally, finally reunited.  
  
It feels, strangely, like coming home. Something in his chest relaxes, and it's only then he realizes how tense he's been this whole time.   
  
“You can’t have,” Kyungsoo murmurs, his breath shaky and trembling. “Don’t play games with me, Jongin.”  
  
Jongin’s smile turns soft now, slow and gentle, eyes warm and looking at Kyungsoo as if he really is seeing him for the first time.  
  
“Hi,” he says, with the sentimental lilt that Kyungsoo's missed for so long. He feels an ache in his bones. “It’s been a while.”  
  
Kyungsoo is struggling for words, lip trembling and eyes shining. He scoffs out an ironic chuckle, face crumpling.  
  
“You idiot,” he says. “It took you this long?”  
  
Jongin shrugs, smiling in embarrassment as Kyungsoo laughs again.  
  
“You tortured me,” Kyungsoo continues, shaking his head.   
  
Jongin’s smile doesn’t waver.  
  
“I thought it was over, for good. That I’d never see you again and you’d never really remember me, ever.”  
  
“Well,” Jongin says. “I’m here now. I’m a bit late. But I’m here.”  
  
Kyungsoo drops his bags to the ground slowly, his eyes glimmering as he approaches Jongin. It’s as if they are the only two people around, because Kyungsoo has drowned out everything that is not Jongin.   
  
“This is real,” Kyungsoo whispers. His smile twitches like he doesn't want to trick himself into believing this is an illusion, and Jongin can practically see all the pain he’s felt for years. It has his heart twisting. “This is happening?”  
  
“It’s real,” Jongin murmurs. “I’m here.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles at him, somewhat sadly, as something in him breaks and it all comes rushing in at once. And finally - he comes in to envelop Jongin in a tight hug, his chin perched against his shoulder as he releases a shuddering breath. It feels like a dream, to finally be able to hold Jongin again. When he catches the familiar scent of a man he once loved, and still does, Kyungsoo realizes he is done dreaming, and hopes he will never have to again.  
  
“It’s you,” Kyungsoo gasps as if he's looking for air, and that’s all he needs to say for Jongin to understand.  
  
There’s a chuckle, but it’s laced with a breathy sob. “It’s me.”  
  
Kyungsoo doesn’t ask why, or how. That he can learn later. For now, he relishes in Jongin’s hold, digging his nose in his neck, never wanting to let go again. He’d made that mistake once before already, and now this feels like a second chance.  
  
"You - you weren't supposed to remember," Kyungsoo says, the words coming out in a tumble. "I thought we were over, done with forever. How did you...?"  
  
"I just did," Jongin says. "I can't explain it, Kyungsoo. I feel like I have known all along, it was just...hiding, somewhere. I just - I got lost along the way to you, I guess, but all it takes is a little direction."  
  
"I'm just glad you're here," Kyungsoo whispers, pulling back to press his forehead against Jongin's. Their hearts, after being apart for so long, beat as one in this moment, and nothing has ever felt more right than being in Jongin's arms. His hand caresses the side of his face, his thumb gently smoothing over Jongin's cheekbone as he smiles that familiar, bright smile.  
  
"I really am done here," Jongin says. "I don't know what will happen to us next, but I hope this will be the last time we have to do this."  
  
Kyungsoo sniffles a little, still beaming as he agrees. "I need you by my side forever. We were so foolish to give that up. But you're here now, and I still can't believe how you - how you even got here." He laughs then, eyes shining. "You really are my little paradox. Everything you do seems to be against the laws of the universe."  
  
"I'd fight anything to be with you."  
  
Kyungsoo lets out one last half-sob, half-laugh, shaking his head in what seems to be disbelief and happiness and pure, utter joy. Tears track down his cheeks, but this time, Jongin is there to wipe them away.  
  
“Finally," Kyungsoo sighs, his voice softened to a low and content tone.  
  
Jongin can only smile, his heart and face warm.  
  
Finally.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**  
****\+ epilogue + 40 years later +**  
  
The night sky is a blanket over the city of Seoul, embedded by twinkling gems that reflect in the flat of the river. A woman sits with her grandchild on a bench, their picnic basket all packed up and rested besides them. The sun went down an hour ago, but they make no move to head home. Areum had wanted to watch the stars anyway, not the sunset. With the stars, she feels like she is floating.  
  
“The sky is generous tonight,” the grandmother, Seungwan, says. “You don’t usually get stars like this in Seoul.”  
  
“They’re pretty,” Areum says, in awe. She hasn’t taken her eyes off of them. “Maybe they came out just for you and me.”  
  
Seungwan smiles at this, glancing at Areum before taking her gaze back to the night sky. “Have I ever told you about the legend of stars and the Moon God?”  
  
Areum shakes her head. She drops her gaze back to her grandmother, clearly interested in the legend.  
  
“The Moon God says that stars are made from souls who are done here,” Seungwan explains. “Souls who have moved on, who have done everything they ever needed to do. These souls take a place in the sky only when they’re ready. Only when they decide their time on earth is up. Then, they spend the rest of eternity written into the universe forever, so that we humans can look up at them and learn their story.”  
  
Areum’s eyes shine. “Does every star have a story?”  
  
“Oh, definitely, love. Do you see that one there?”  
  
The child glances up to where her grandmother points, to a bright, bigger star amongst the rest.  
  
“That one has a pair - right next to him, do you see? There was a time ago when the universe kept them apart, but it doesn’t matter anymore, now that they’re together. Their story is quite extraordinary. Their story is...rule-breaking, almost, like they’ve gone against the ways of fate to fight to be together. They really shouldn’t be there, actually, because the way the rest of their time was written out, there was no foreseeable way for them to ever be together. But well, they did it, anyway. Their love was strong enough to fight for it. They’re stars now, and I sense they will be happier this way, where they will remain by each other’s side for eternity. As it was meant to be.”  
  
Areum looks at her grandmother in curiosity. She does love her bedtime stories. “Will you tell me their story?” she asks.  
  
Seungwan smiles, soft and patient. She takes her gaze back to the night sky, recalling the nights she'd spent traveling across the universe, in search of a place she felt like she could be truly free. Little did she think it would lead her here. Then again, she supposes Kyungsoo and Jongin did not expect to find themselves where they are now either. Everything works for a reason.  
  
“Well,” she starts, “it began with a temple in the sky.”


End file.
